Phone a Friend
by SlytherinTwinCC
Summary: For a young woman named Chelsea life was a seemingly endless mass of gray. For a quirky Chocolatier named Willy life was about to get pleasantly complicated by a very unexpected series of phone calls. WWOC. Depp Wonka.
1. Hell

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch. 1: Hell.

It was summing up to be yet another horridly gray day just like almost all the rest in the forsaken town whose unkempt sidewalk passed quickly beneath a very cold girl's very quick steps. Everything in the town was gray. The streets were gray when there was no snow or leaves covering it. The homes were gray, the stores, and the gigantic factory on its outskirts. Gray! The entire lot! It was no wonder Chelsea Collins' already pitiable existence soured even more in the winter months. When the trees were bare and the sun was sparse, everything seemed just a bit gloomier.

Chelsea gathered her coat more tightly about her with her one free arm while her groceries, consisting of a loaf of bread and a bottle of rum, were tucked safely beneath her other. Her father routinely sent her out on errands he, being far to busy himself, could simply not be bothered with. Unfortunately, this busy task which demanded the sending of his daughter out in a storm, was watching his evening television shows. To say that the task was completely unwanted would be a lie; Chelsea did not mind going anywhere her father sent her because it meant that she was anywhere but in his presence.

As she trudged through the snow covering her front lawn she mentally braced herself for whatever it would be that her father would shout at her this evening. She always seemed to misplace the right key, ah, there it is. Damn it.

"That you?" her father shouted from the couch. Good. Stay there.

"Yes," Chelsea replied shortly, stopping to shove the bread in the breadbox and sit the rum on the kitchen table.

"What took you so long? The store is just down the block!" He shouted, rising from his seat. Chelsea decided not to correct his miscalculation. The store was about ten blocks away and she was against the wind through half of it. When he lumbered into the kitchen his face looked of a man about to scream some more but as his beady eyes fell to the table and onto the bottle of rum his expression softened immensely.

"They didn't have the kind I like in?" He asked, rather placidly.

"No, the man said everyone is buying up all his good rum, it being so cold and all…"

"Well, rum is rum I suppose when it all comes down too it. Better this than nothing." With that he snatched up the bottle and headed up the stairs to the study. Chelsea sat down at the kitchen table and rubbed her hands together to help them thaw out. Sighing, she shrugged off her jacket and got up to hang it. On her way back to her room she quickly made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Since her father took the whole bottle of rum with him that meant he would not be requiring her to cook him dinner. She would rather eat something small than stay down stairs for too long. Such was her life of predictable unpredictability.

---

The next morning dawned slightly brighter than the previous. Chelsea's eyes fluttered open, assaulted by a sliver of sun showing through the cloudy sky and through her bedroom curtains. She rolled onto her back and stretched, feeling her aching muscles, a reminder of her impromptu chore the previous evening, begrudgingly awaken and prepare for the new day.

Getting up and gathering her clothes, she paused a moment at her window before pushing open the curtains to punish her eyes with the epicenter of gray. Standing not too far in the distance was that chocolate factory. Aside from at one time bringing a lot of jobs and wealth to the citizens of the city, and at all times sending a wonderful sweet smell to all homes nearest to it, the giant building only served to blemish the land and make the city even uglier and yes, grayer.

---

Sitting on her front porch preparing to sketch the vast factory, as sketching anything within her sight was one of her hobbies, Chelsea silently considered her life for the past few years. There had been a lot of changes, some good, some bad, and others….worse. She often found herself slipping into this self depressing trance. It was depressing; it was comfortable.

Her father, after her mother had had her _accident_ and passed away, moved them to his father's house in this nasty town that Chelsea had not so affectionately nick-named the harbinger of doom. Her mother and father had been fighting, ironically over money, when she _fell_ down the stairs in their beautiful eight bedroom, three and a half bath, three car garage, Beverly Hills home, in 'The Americas.' Soon after, her father inherited all of her mother's not so hard earned family money. Oddly, he put the money into accounts and moved them in with her grandfather, only occasionally dipping into the accounts when extremely necessary. They never worked but always seemed to want for decent things. It was like he was holding onto the inheritance for a rainy day.

Not but a year after their arrival her grandfather had passed away. Luckily his passing was much more natural. Her father inherited this modest 3 bedroom home and promptly became an alcoholic. A few years later Mr. Willy Wonka decided he needed an heir to his throne and held his Golden Ticket contest, quite effectively albeit unknowingly bringing even more fun into Chelsea's household.

The Beauregarde's were one of the parent and child pairs that won the life changing trip into the giant factory of doom. Chelsea too was caught up in the excitement of the Golden Ticket frenzy and thus decided she would like to go watch the winners and their parent's journey into and out of the factory with the rest of the town. Her father, being only mildly intoxicated at the time, as was the norm during the earlier hours of the day, agreed that it sounded like quite a time but that they needed to be stylish if they were to be in the line of fire for so many cameras. She had not actually intended for him to accompany her as she relayed her day's plans but the prospect of some new clothing seemed worth it in the long run.

Dressed for success and looking rather ritzy if she dared to say so herself, they gathered with the onlookers at the great gates to the factory. The winners were all lined up and waiting rather impatiently to enter.

And then they had.

And then the crowd waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Had Chelsea known it could possibly be this boring and quiet in an enormous crowd surrounded by television cameras and paparazzi, she would have brought her sketch pad or at the very least a good book.

When the contestants were finally pouring out of the building the crowd became excited once again. All of the contestants were sullied in one fashion or another. Covered in what could only be chocolate judging by the smell, stretched out to the max, covered in garbage, and turned completely purple. One contestant was missing, the little lucky Bucket boy whose presence was only announced that very morning.

Chelsea remembered having glanced up toward the sky to gaze interestedly at the Teavee boy who had been standing near her when she thought she saw something pass quickly overhead. A box thing, but she was hastily pulled out of her observations by her fathers elbow in her ribs.

He was pointing at the little purple girl and saying something about a circus when the little purple girl's mother stepped in front of his offending finger.

"Excuse ME Sir, but would you kindly stop pointing at my daughter?!" Mrs. Beauregarde shouted. She was clearly angry at that time and trying to coax her daughter into wearing her jacket over her head.

"Well, Ma'am, I meant no harm. But you are going to have one tough time getting around anywhere without her being stared at," he replied.

What had happened next Chelsea could not have foreseen.

"Why don't you and your.. _lovely_ daughter come stay with me and mine until you have to catch your flight back home?" Her father offered with a small bow Chelsea had never before seen him use.

Mrs. Beauregarde looked startled at first. Who wouldn't be? But after giving him a once over she smiled sweetly and grabbed her bouncy daughter's arm, gesturing for him to lead the way. The cameras were all too side tracked by the tall boy mumbling something about particles and televisions to notice their departure, which all in all was what Mrs. Beauregarde had wanted to achieve. She got more than she bargained for. Then again, the word bargain should probably not be used when describing Mrs. Beauregarde.

The next five years could best be described as noisy. Mrs. Beauregarde had quickly become Mrs. Collins and Chelsea had gained a new sister and a new mommy. The worst part was that the new sister quickly realized that going out side was scary and became a walking purple zombie and that the new mommy became the wicked witch of the west. There was not a day that passed that Chelsea did not have to deal with fights, tears, or even suicide attempts. The fights and tears were for the most part only the step witch but the suicide attempts were the purple zombie.

At first Violet was beside herself with excitement about being different and more athletic, until no schools would allow her enrollment because she was such a distraction to the other students, and no sports teams would have her either. All was fine until she turned thirteen. Violet could cope with rejection until her traitorous hormones decided to kick in. Everything changed after that. Violet's growing depression spiraled out of control on her fourteenth birthday. They found her that morning puking up a bottle of pills she had found in the medicine cabinet. These half hearted and half thought out plans to kill herself only increased in unsuccessful number until one day, fed up with the hospital hassles, Chelsea's father declared in a drunken rage that he "would purchase Violet a handgun so she could do it properly" and that he "would be rid of them both because afterwards" he would "make sure her money hungry succubus of a mother followed her to hell."

He got part of his wish. Shortly thereafter they were rid of them both and Chelsea found herself without a new mommy and without a new little sister. The only downside that she could see to their divorce and move was that now her father's rage was once again directed at her and that she felt really bad about everything that Violet had gone and was still going through.

---

Chelsea looked down at her sketch pad. She always depicted the factory as more sinister looking than it actually was. She supposed that this was due to her ex-sister's situation and the grudging pity it stirred insider of her. Thinking about the Beauregarde's always made her feel uncomfortable. She felt bad about Violet's depression. It was not like there was anything she herself could do to make it better for Violet but she always got into these weird moods when thinking about them. Moods that made her want to pick up the phone and give Violet a call just to see if she was still alive. And to maybe ask her how her day had been.

Shaking her head, she finished drawing the puffs of smoke rising into the darkening sky above the factory and realized that she had spent the entire day in the same spot doing the same thing. This was a regular occurrence for her. It was a way of zoning out of the world that Chelsea had picked up after her mother's death. It was only helpful part of the time.

On her way back up to her room Chelsea decided to check in the miscellaneous drawer next to the kitchen sink to see if the card Violet had quickly scribbled her cell phone number on as she was leaving was still in there. After some rummaging she decided it was not and that she needed some food and a hot bath before bed.

An hour later found her sitting in bed getting ready to open up one of her favorite books, "Ender's Game" for some light reading to help her fall asleep. When she did open the book the card in earlier question fell out onto her chest. She glanced down at it and picked it up. On one side of it in quick scratchy writing was Violet's cell number. Apparently Chelsea had sought out the card during one of her previous moods and had decided to use it as a bookmark. When Chelsea flipped the card over out of curiosity, realizing she had never actually examined the other side before, she found something truly surprising. Written in beautiful eloquent characters was this:

_Mr. Willy Wonka: Magician, Genius, & Chocolatier._

Following those very remarkable and egotistical words were his personal office number and the instructions to call him if one were ever in need of his services. In much smaller print it also said that this card must never be given away or his number shared for it was for business associates and important customers only.

Chelsea stared dumbfounded at the card for a number of minutes before realizing she had not blinked and that her eyes were stinging. She blinked rapidly for a moment and then her mind began to work out the puzzle. Knowing the tale of what had gone on in the factory from both Mrs. Beauregarde and Violet, she knew that they went in, had their accident, and left. Why would Mr. Wonka have given this card to either of them? After more thought on the matter she decided that he most likely would not have and that one of them must have stolen it when he was not around. The only time he was not around was while Violet was being 'juiced' and Mrs. Beauregarde was waiting in… of course! While she was waiting for Violet she must have snuck into his office and taken this card. She had mentioned noticing his office on the way out. Well, she had noticed it for sure, but not exactly on the way out.

Puzzle solved, Chelsea closed her book and sat it on the bedside table, propping the card up against its spine. As she drifted off to sleep the words on the card became blurrier and blurrier until she found herself hugging Violet who was melting into a purple puddle and throwing dozens of little white business cards at Violet's mother.


	2. Cell

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 2: Cell.

The next morning Chelsea awoke feeling much better than usual. It was the fact that her father had not made her do anything strenuous the previous day and had left her to her own devices.

As she rolled over her sight was immediately invaded by _the card_. She stared at it wondering what to make of this interesting new discovery. She could, for starters, call the number. But why would she want to talk to Mr. Wonka? What could she possibly have to say to him? After a couple more random thoughts questioning her insane urge to give the world's most famous and undoubtedly busiest Chocolatier a ring, she decided that she needed a shower.

---

Two hours, one shower, one bowl of cereal, and a sketch of the neighbor's cat later, found Chelsea sitting again on her front porch examining the vast factory. The morning air was still crisp but one could tell that spring was busy arriving.

Chelsea began to wonder if she had ever actually _seen_ Willy Wonka. She had seen trucks come and go from the factory, caught a tiny glimpse of him as he watched the rather odd and too far away to properly hear musical display next to the winners before they entered the factory, and remembered seeing some pictures of him cutting the ribbon to his new factory when she was younger.

Willy Wonka was very mysterious. A very mysterious ass. How could anyone treat other people the way he had treated Violet? Sure, Violet was a bratty little girl but that is no excuse for what he condemned her to for life. It was only too bad Wonka was smart enough to make the tickets, in very, very fine print, declare that he was in no way liable for anything that happened to them while they were inside the factory or else she would be leading the charge to sue his pompous ass.

As Chelsea mulled over the many things she would like to do to get even with Mr. Wonka she also came to a decision on something else. She needed to talk to Violet Beauregarde.

---

Later that evening after making her father dinner and jogging to and from the market to purchase him some more rum, Chelsea decided that it was finally time to give her ex-step zombie a call.

She grabbed the cordless phone and headed up the stairs to her room. Propping her pillows against her headboard and settling back against them she hesitantly reached out for _the card._

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hello?"

"Uhh, Mrs.. Beauregarde? This is Chelsea…"

"Oh."

"Um.. is Violet available to talk?"

"No."

"Oh. Erm.. why did you answer _her_ cell phone?"

"Because she is not allowed to have a cell ….where she is. So I'm using hers now."

"Oh. Where is she then?"

"She.. well.. she .. Oh Chelsea, she got out of hand. Her.. well you know, I just couldn't cope with it anymore. It was just too much. Almost every other day I had to face the possibility of my only daughter's death…it.." she trailed off as her voice cracked a bit.

"Where did you.. take her?"

"I had to commit her into Willow Brooke Facilities. They take care of her. Unfortunately, she refuses to participate in any of their activities or even go where any of the other patients can view her. They keep her in a padded cell and partially sedated half of the time. I don't like to see her like that.. but at least this way I _can_ see her whenever I want to. And I don't have to worry that she…"

"I know. I'm.. really sorry. I hope.. well.."

"Yeah."

"Umm could you tell..?"

"Yes… I'll tell her that you called. She really liked you. She misses you I think.. someone near her age who would talk and play with her and not poke fun or ..anything."

"Yeah."

"She will be thrilled.. well… as thrilled as she can be.. to hear that you thought of her and called."

"Good. I'm glad.. um, thanks for talking to me."

"Anytime Chelsea."

"Goodbye then."

"Bye dear."

Click.

Wow.

A psycho ward.

That's just…

Crazy?

Chelsea mentally smacked herself for automatically supplying that particular word to describe what she thought about the situation.

Shaking her head as if to organize her thoughts she pondered why Violet's mother was being so nice to her. She must be really distraught over having to commit Violet. This is all far too sad.

Chelsea rearranged her pillows and lied down on her back. She could feel the weight of the cordless and _the card_ on her stomach. Sighing deeply she closed her eyes and fought against the onslaught of tears that were threatening to spill out below her eyelids. No one deserved what Violet was going through, no one.

---

"CHELSEA!?"

Chelsea's eyes snapped open at the scream and the first thing she noticed was that it was still dark. She glanced over at her alarm clock which revealed that it was 4:32 a.m. Whatever her father was mad about, it could not result in anything pleasant.

She crawled out of bed and slid her feet into her slippers, pulling on her robe over her pajamas as she headed toward the light switch.

Flick.

The room was immediately bathed in light and Chelsea had to close her eyes from the harsh brightness.

As she opened her door it let out a huge creak and Chelsea cringed.

"Chelsea!!" Her father roared again. He must be down stairs.

She supplied a very small, "Yeah?" and then proceeded to cautiously walk down the stairs. She saw that the kitchen light was on. As she got to the kitchen doorway she gasped at the sight that lay before her. Everything in the kitchen was trashed. The cupboards were open with their contents half in and half sprawled all over the counters and floor, papers were strewn everywhere, the trash knocked over, even the kitchen table and chairs were in slightly different places.

"What happened?" She quietly asked. She did not want to provoke him.

"I cant find ANYTING. I… where is my wallet? Did you steal it? I always knew you were a little thief, just like all the fucking women in the world. And the cordless phone… where is that? Have you taken it? Are you trying to run up the house phone bill? I just can't find…" he trailed off.

She could smell the rum. He must have finished off the whole bottle that she had bought that day and it was a rather large one. As he stared accusingly at her, her mind went blank and she could think of nothing at all to say.

Suddenly she found her self sprawled out on the floor. He had charged her and slapped her right across the face. She scrambled across the floor on her hands and knees into the living room. Only then did her mind decide that perhaps she should actually _do_ something.

She ran full speed up the stairs and into her room, grabbed the cordless from her bed, and then ran into his room to search frantically for his wallet. It was not there. She looked in the study; she ran back down stairs and looked about the living room. Nowhere! Then a thought struck her. She grabbed the car keys, dashed outside and checked the cup holder.

Ah, there it is.

Yeah I'm a thief and you're just a forgetful drunken bastard.

When she returned into the house her father was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. She slowly approached him and tossed the phone and wallet onto the couch at his side. He glanced over at them and then up at her and then let out a huge sigh.

"Chelsea…"

But she had already turned to flee back up to her room.

---

The next morning when Chelsea awoke properly, she found a small box on her bedside table. Reaching out she brought the box to herself for closer inspection. She realized it was a new cell phone. With that realization came still another and she touched her finger tips to her cheek. It still stings. There must be a bruise.

She wondered how on earth her father had gotten this phone before she even awoke. She looked at the clock and realized that she had slept in much later than usual. Strange, you would think after last night one would wake up sooner or not even be able to fall asleep at all. She was pretty used to it by now though. Fairly common for her, events like the one that had occurred last night. He would get drunk, get pissy about one random thing or another, hit her, and then would proceed to feel awful and buy her something he thought she needed or would like. If he even remembered that it had happened at all that is.

Thinking about her father's actions brought back a fresh new wave of pity for Violet and her mother. He would hit them as well when they lived here. In fact, while they were here, unless she physically put herself in between them he would choose to hit them instead of her. It is a wonder that they had stayed married for the five years that they had. Violet's mom was only after his money, she got half of it in the long run, not that that mattered. After what he put them through they deserved half of the money.

She got up, took a shower, got dressed, put on some makeup to cover the bruise, and activated her cell phone. On a whim she decided to program in both Violet's cell number and Mr. Wonka's personal office number. Just in case. In case of what she did not really know. In case she wanted to talk to Violet's mother again or scream at Mr. Wonka she decided.

She placed the card back into her book for safe keeping. It was a fine business card and an even better bookmark, after all.

---

The weeks passed by in a haze, as usual. An ugly gray haze to be more precise. Chelsea's twenty-third birthday was coming up and she was not looking forward to it. Birthdays just meant memories. They are just reminders that you are older; that you would not be around forever.

Luckily there had not been a relapse of the night her father had hit her. After he would do something like that, assuming he remembered of course, he would always go a while without drinking. Like he thought putting some time in between actually made it alright.

Chelsea sighed as she swung on the swings at the little park down the street from her house. She always swung facing toward the factory. It seemed to always draw her eyes, her thoughts, her pencil, even her dreams.

She sniffed the air as the wind picked up slightly. Mmm… that sweet smell was the factory's only redeeming quality in her opinion. She loved that smell. It was chocolate. Lightly burnt chocolate. She closed her eyes and just swung there trying not to think at all; zoning out.

"Hey."

Chelsea nearly jumped out of her skin as a voice sounded from somewhere very near and behind her. She dug her feet into the dirt, slowed down, hopped of, and spun around.

It was just some teenager. Well, that could still be problematic but he did not look harmful. She gave him a quick once over: All new clothing, very nicely dressed, a little too nicely for someone at a park. About her height which was five foot seven inches. He looked to be about twenty years old, probably younger. Brown hair and a lopsided smile. Why was he smiling at her?

"Hey… don't just sneak up behind people! It's rude and… and frightening!" she yelled, narrowing her eyes at the intruder.

"I'm really sorry. I was just …walking by and I noticed you swinging. You looked really out of it. I thought maybe I should check and make sure you were.. alright.." he trailed off lamely.

"Well I am. I was just.. thinking."

"Okay."

"You really scared me." She put a hand over her heart for emphasis.

"Yeah.. I'm really sorry." He said as he stepped closer to her.

"…It's okay, I guess.."

"Is that a sketch pad over there? Do you draw?" He inquired politely. She noticed he was looking oddly at her face. Stupid cover up, it's supposed to COVER things UP!

"…Yes but.."

Before she could get out the fact that she did not want to show him any of her sketches he had begun walking towards where she had sat her pad in the sand.

"May I?" He asked as he reached for the pad. 

"Erm… I suppose.." She figured he was already holding it so he may as well take a peek if he was so damned interested.

She watched as his face lit up at the sight of her sketches. He seemed to be contemplating something for a long time as he looked at one of the drawings. It must be one of the factory, they were mostly of the factory. Like there is anything else to draw around here.

As if to confirm her thoughts he glanced back over his shoulder toward the giant building. He was silent a full minute before looking back down at the drawing.

"It's not all that bad, is it? I mean.. you've drawn it so..nasty and gloomy." He lowered the pad so she could see which drawing he was referring too.

"Well… its just.. dull. And so gray…and I.."

"No it's okay. I understand."

"Well…"

"These are very nice, you should consider becoming an advertisement designer or something…"

"Um.. thanks but.."

"Well.. I really have to run. Got so much work to do!" He said rather forcefully as he outstretched his arm to hand her back the pad. She took it and just stared at him. He smiled. She blushed slightly. He was rather odd.

"What's your name?" He inquired, again, politely.

"Chelsea."

"It was nice to.. er.. scare you. And see your art.." his smile faded at this rather lame statement.

"Er.. yeah.." she struggled for something to say.

"Well bye then." He said, turning and walked very quickly away.

She turned around and hugged her sketch pad to her chest. Weird.

She decided that she would stay away from the park for a few days, just in case he was not the nice guy he appeared to be. She was always cautious, yet another learned trait.

---

Her birthday came and went. Her father had taken her out to eat, which was a quiet and awkward event. They lived in the very same house but never talked to one another. She knew why she did not want to talk to or be around him but what was his excuse? Maybe it was guilt. Yes, that would be suitable.

On the way home from the restaurant that they had to walk to and from because the car was broken down yet again, her father stopped at the liquor store to buy some more rum.

Happy Birthday Chelsea.

---

Twenty-three years old. What did that make Violet? Like nineteen. Nineteen years old and stuck in a mental hospital. What about her prom? What about friends and parties? Not like Chelsea ever had any of those things either as she was always privately tutored, but Violet would have liked all of those things.

Chelsea had escaped the night of her birthday and the next couple of weeks without fighting at all with her father. She also noticed that he had not restocked or made her restock his supply of rum so he must be rationing it. Well good. That is how it is supposed to be done anyway. If one must partake at all.

She looked over at her dresser where the envelope lay. Her father had also given her a present on her birthday, aside from dinner that is. He gave her five hundred dollars to spend as she pleased. She had been contemplating exactly what she pleased to spend it on since.

She had briefly thought about getting the car fixed so that the next time he wanted her to run some errand she could at least drive, but that was _his_ job not hers. Let him spend his money on it. Unfortunately, she was also punishing herself by making this decision. Ah well.

She had also considered going on a girly type shopping spree. It really sounded fun, just going out and buying whatever she felt like again, like when her mother used to take her out. But in the long run she figured that that would not be very satisfying.

She reached over and picked up "Ender's Game" and opened it to where she had left off. Violet's writing stared up at her from the bookmark. That is when it hit her exactly what she would like to do with her birthday money. She only hoped that her father would not over react.


	3. Visiting the Cell

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 3: Visiting the Cell.

Willow Brooke 'Facilities' was much larger than Chelsea had imagined it would be.

After deciding that her money would best be spent on a round trip ticket to Georgia to visit Violet, Chelsea had carefully approached her father for his permission. He had agreed, mainly because she was twenty-three and he really did not care what she did as long as it did not have anything to do with him. He had even offered up the extra cash she had needed for the plane tickets without her having to ask. So she had caught the very next flight after quickly packing a bag consisting of two of Violet's favorite movies, one book she remembered that she had rather liked a lot, some clothing, some toiletries, and her sketch pad.

---

As Chelsea examined the front gates of the building she got a strange sense of deja vu. It was simply due to the fact that the gates were so very high, and so very similar to those other gates she knew only too well.

She gathered her courage and pressed the button on the gate call box.

"Welcome to Willow Brooke Facilities. What can I do for you on this lovely day?" Came a woman's very crisp voice.

"Um… my name is Chelsea Collins.. I was hoping to visit my …step sister Violet Beauregarde?"

"One second."

The speaker static went dead as though they had been disconnected. Chelsea switched from foot to foot nervously.

"Ah yes. Visiting hours are still open for today. When you hear the buzz please push the gates open. Someone will meet you at the door Miss. Collins. Enjoy your visit."

"Tha.." Chelsea had begun to thank the woman but she found herself actually disconnected. She soon heard the buzz, so, as instructed, she pressed hard on the gates and walked up the inclined lawn to the giant oak doors.

When she arrived at the doors after climbing some rather too large steps, a huge man was awaiting her. A very frightening man. He looked down at her until she got so nervous that she knew she had to speak first.

"Um. Hi. I'm here for.. visiting hours?" She mumbled awkwardly.

The man just nodded and reached out his hand to her. She stared at said hand until he spoke.

"I will need to empty your bag of anything potentially dangerous to the patient."

"Oh.. well I really would only like to take in a couple of videos, a book, and my sketch pad and.. well I could use my little pieces of charcoal instead of the pencil if you'd prefer."

"I would. Those things are fine. Take them out of your bag and follow me. I will show you where you may leave the rest of your belongings," he said curtly.

She swung her bag around and took out the aforementioned objects. He pushed open the huge oak doors and gestured for her to proceed him inside. At least he had some manners.

The inside of the building was nothing like the outside. The outside gave the appearance of a huge elegant mansion, manicured yard and all, whereas the inside was just a plain old hospital. Chelsea found this discovery slightly depressing.

After depositing her backpack, cell phone, and shoe laces into the cubby she followed the big man down corridor after corridor until they reached room number three hundred and ninety-four. Chelsea was about to ask the man two questions, one being, how many rooms are in this huge place, the other being, is Violet dangerous, when he opened the door, gave her a little shove, and said "You have one hour and thirty minutes, enjoy your visit," and promptly shut the door behind her.

Chelsea was almost afraid to look around. She clutched the objects in her arms closer to her chest and had the fleeting thought, _oh why did I decide to do this,_ when she heard a small voice come from the far corner of the room.

"Chels., is that you?" Violet sounded unsure, and a little shocked.

Chelsea looked to that side of the room and regarded her ex sibling. She looked … older. She was the same blueish-purple oddity except now she looked like a woman blueish-purple oddity. Her hair had grown out past the middle of her back, and her other womanly features had more fully developed. She was sitting in a corner looking up at Chelsea as though she were the strange one. Chelsea smiled widely.

"Hiya V. Long time no see, eh?" She offered with all the cheer that she could muster.

"What are you doing here?" The question sounded accusatory.

"I came to visit you, silly," Chelsea offered with a small smile. "Don't you like visitors?"

"No… especially when they're people that I thought liked me but never ever called me or visited me, ever." Violet looked so hurt as she pretended to be angry that Chelsea almost started to cry right then and there. Violet's voice and mannerisms were still that of the little girl she once was, probably due to her self inflicted seclusion. Instead of crying, Chelsea opted for dropping everything that was in her arms onto the squishy floor and rushing over to gather Violet up in what was probably her first hug in ages.

At that point they both _did_ start crying.

---

About forty-five minutes later, after a lot of muttered apologizing and even more tears, Chelsea was sitting across the small room from Violet. They were both propped up on either wall facing one another. Violet was flipping through the book that Chelsea had brought for her with a small sad smile on her face and Chelsea was frantically drawing sketch after sketch of her beautiful captive. Every sketch looked very sad except for the one with the small smile; the one she was just finishing.

"Alrighty, done," she declared.

"Already?"

"Well it did take like almost an hour.. I drew a lot of sketches of you."

"…I lose track of time.. things happen either really quickly or really slowly… sorry."

"Uhh.. no, that's okay.."

"So, can I see your sketches?"

"Umm.. yeah sure."

Violet scooted across the floor so that she was sitting next to Chelsea. They did not need to keep Violet sedated or tied up anymore; she seemed to have lost the will to even kill herself. She just, _was_. Which went to show how often her dear old mother actually did visit her. Sad.

"I want you to show me every one in that book and describe them to me. Tell me what you were thinking during each one, okay?"

"Oh, I don't know if we'll have time for all of that. How about I just show you the best ones?"

"Alright."

Chelsea had no intention of showing her the drawings of the factory. It would probably tear her apart. So she quickly thumbed through, barely showing any more than a corner of each page until she came to one she thought suitable.

"Okay. This here is Sputz. Do you remember our neighbor's cat Lily?" At Violets nod of confirmation Chelsea continued her story. "Well, Lily and a tomcat down the street decided to start a very, very, very large family and this is one of their kittens. Well he's not a kitten in this picture. Anyway, isn't he cute? He's all scruffy like his dad."

"Yeah he's pretty cute. So what were you thinking as you drew him?"

Ut-oh. No, she was thinking about Mr. Wonka _after _drawing Sputz. What had she been thinking as she drew him? Hmm…ah.

"Well honestly, as I was drawing this picture I only remember thinking that I hoped they got Sputz neutered because there are enough cats in the neighborhood, and that I hoped the little bird at the other end of the fence would take off before he became a cat snack."

Violet gave a little giggle. "Okay, let's see another then."

"Alright." As Chelsea was about to turn to a sketch she had done of the birch tree at the park she let out a huge sneeze that resulted in the sketch book slipping from her hands and landing with a dull thud on the floor between herself and Violet. When she looked down she almost groaned aloud. Lying open was a sketch that she had done from memory of the strange boy in the park. She drew him looking back at the factory. The factory in question loomed ominously and immense in the not so distant background.

Well damn.

"It's that place." Was all Violet commented with a blank look on her face.

"Yeah.. I draw the factory a lot because its well.. right there as you know.. and so big. Good shapes and all..uhmm.."

"So who's the guy?" Violet did not seem the least bit interested in the factory.

"Just some jackass that scared the hell out of me as I was swinging. That's rude you know.."

"Yeah. Something about him seems nice. Did he say his name?"

"No. He was too busy to stay and chat was all he said.. oh and that I should be an advertisement designer or some rubbish."

"It's not rubbish. You _should_ be some kind of designer. You could make money doing what you love to do."

Chelsea was going to argue until she noticed the sorrowful look on Violet's face. Violet probably feared that she would never get to do what she loved to do again.

Double damn.

"I … I don't blame him you know. That crazy candy man," Violet declared all of the sudden.

"Wonka? What do you mean you _don't_ blame him? He did this to you! He made that awful meal gum or whatever that … well.. you know.." Chelsea protested vehemently.

"That, had I listened to his warnings and actually not chewed, I would still be… normal."

"He warned you not to chew it?" It was like a slap to Chelsea's face.

"Yep. And stubborn ol' me… had to be the first to try it anyway, with mom there egging me on."

"Well… he… at least could have created a cure or something for you. He didn't have to leave you like this." This new information about Mr. Wonka was unsetteling. After so many years of thinking one way about the man it would be hard for her to change her opinion of him.

"Yeah well.. and maybe he would have if my mother hadn't went in and trashed the hell out of his office…"

"Wow." Suspicion confirmed.

"Yeah."

"But still…"

"Look, if he'd have wanted to make a cure he'd of done it already so we might as well forget about it. It's not like I'll ever talk to him again anyway."

At this statement both girls became silent and tried to look anywhere but at one another. When the big guy knocked on the door and shouted "five more minutes" both girls jumped and Chelsea realized she would obviously have to say _something,_ at the very least, goodbye.

"So, will they allow you to watch your movies?"

"Yeah, there's an entertainment room. They'll probably be so shocked and happy that I want to go there that they'll let me have the room all to myself."

"Good. I hope you enjoy them. I remembered that those were your favorites," Chelsea said offering Violet a small smile.

"Yep. It'll sure be the most fun thing I've done since good ol' mom shipped me here."

"Well… that's good, I guess. …Look.. I'm going to try and come visit you whenever I can, okay?"

"And I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that so that it'll hurt less when you don't, but thanks for coming this time. I've missed you Chels."

"I've missed you too V."

The big guy opened the door and gestured for Chelsea to come, so she stood up with Violet and gave her another lingering hug. Then she grabbed her sketch book and pocked her charcoal and headed towards the door. When she got there she turned and gave Violet a little wave.

"Bye V."

"Bye Chels."

And out the door she went.

---

After retrieving all of her belongings Chelsea found herself awkwardly standing once again with the big man at the huge oak doors.

"Well thanks for …taking me to.. her room.." Chelsea offered lamely.

"It's my job." He opened the door and let her out.

Once outside Chelsea turned and inquired, "I had one question for you, if you know.. Why is the word _Brooke _spelled with an e at the end? A brook as in a river is spelled without.." Chelsea was silently hoping that the big dumb ox would not know why so that she could feel a little less eclipsed by his presence, thus she was a slightly disappointed when he enthusiastically offered her an answer.

"Yes, the word brook does not end in an e. The name Brooke however, does. This facility was named after the English poet Rupert Chawner Brooke. He specialized mainly in poetry concerned with wartime events. Apparently the founder was a distant relative of his." At the end of this lengthy response he offered Chelsea a smirk that plainly said, _the ox isn't so dumb after all, is he,_ and shut the door firmly in her face.

---

It was not until much later while on her flight home that Chelsea had a very exciting epiphany. When she returned home she was going to give one Mr. Willy Wonka a nice little phone call.


	4. Making the Call

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

Also, for the purposes of understanding the phone conversations… honestly I realize that they can become rather difficult to tell who is talking at times. Mainly just figure out who started talking first and then they will proceed like: 1st person, 2nd person, 1st person, 2nd person, 1st person, 2nd person. Does that make any sense at all? Ah well. Sorry.

---

Ch 4: Making the Call.

When Chelsea arrived home she was greeted by quite a number of bad surprises. First, her father was not at the airport to pick her up. This discovery was not exactly _that_ surprising but whatever. So she had to call a taxicab. On the ride home she decided, since it was a pretty long ride from the airport to her house, that she would try to have a nice little chat with Mr. Wonka about his priorities.

Or lack thereof.

She quickly dug around in her bag to fish out her cell and then sat staring at it for a couple of minutes. What if it was just some secretary? Would they let her talk to him? No, no one worked for him. Well, there were those strange Llama Loompa midgets or whatever that Violet had mentioned. But she said they did not speak much English so they probably did not man the phones. It _was_ supposed to be his private number, to _his _private office, surely she would reach him. Argument settled, she cleared her throat and pressed the call button on his number.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

Eep… no ones answering!

Ring…

Just as she was about to hang up someone picked up. What met her ears next was something she would absolutely never forget, which was most unfortunate for her. The music started and:

"Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka...  
The Amazing Chocolatier.  
Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka...  
Everybody give a cheer!

He's modest, clever, and so smart,  
He can barely restrain it.  
With so much generosity,   
There is no way to contain it...  
To contain...to contain...to contain...to contain.

Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka...  
He's the one that you're about to meet.  
Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka...  
He's a genius who just can't be beat.  
The magician and the chocolate wiz...  
The best darn guy who ever lived.  
Willy Wonka here he is!"

Following this _song_ was a bizarre, rather high pitched man's voice saying, "Well, here he isn't! I'm not in my office right now so slap me a message and I'll call yah back if I like it enough! Kay? Bye!"

Chelsea never made it to the beep. She slammed the phone shut and burst out laughing harder than she had ever laughed in her entire life. What in the _hell_ was _that_?!? The cabbie gave her a few rather annoyed looks in his rear view mirror but try as she might she simply could not contain her laughter. That was by far the dumbest, strangest, silliest, most egotistical… the list of adjectives could probably go on forever, answering machine message she had _ever_ heard!

Wiping the tears from her eyes she decided that Mr. Wonka was indeed the crazy candy man that Violet rarely spoke of. Not just a few bricks short….his wall had a gaping hole in it! Should she even call him back later? How could she possibly talk to someone like that? She would probably be laughing so much at whatever random shit that spewed forth from his mouth that she would not even get out the reason for her call. And it was an important reason. She would have to think about what to say so that she could get it all out before he could say anything too weird.

---

When the cab pulled up in front of her house she found it odd that her father's car was not in the drive. Hmm… he is either at the store or the bar. He must have gotten the car fixed while she was gone. Oh well. She paid the cab driver, hoisted her bag onto her shoulders and walked to her front door. After she let herself in with her house key she heard the rare beep of the answering machine saying that they had a message. After depositing her belongings on the kitchen table she walked over to the answering machine and pressed the play message button. This is Dr. Wonka, Mr. Collin's dentist. …While under the influence of laughing gas during a …procedure at his visit today he had an …allergic reaction. I wanted to let you kn…" beep.

"Bloody hell," Chelsea cursed aloud. Stupid short answering machine recording time. Stupid long pausing talker. Wait, Dr. _Wonka_? Oh great, must be a relative. How did it escape her that her father had a Dr. Wonka as a dentist? Come to think of it why didn't _she_ go to the same dentist as him? Strange. Her father was so secretive. Now she had to call back this Dr. Wonka and find out if her father was dead or at the hospital or needed to be collected or what. Peachy.

She checked her caller I.D. and found Dr. Wonka's number, wrote it down for future reference, and proceeded to call him.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hello, do you have an appointment?" Came a deep male voice.

"Uh.. no. A Dr. Wonka called my home earlier today to inform me that my father, Mr. Collins, had an accident. The message got cut off and my father is not home so I presume he's either still there or at the hospital?"

"Miss Collins?"

"Yes."

"This _is_ Mr. Wonka speaking. Your …father had a reaction to the laughing gas we administered to him. The paramedics were called and he has been transported to" she heard a shuffling of papers "…Grace Memorial Hospital on Hollister boulevard."

"Oh. Okay."

"They seemed to think it was rather minor so I am sure no permanent damage has occurred."

"Uh. Well that's good."

"If there is nothing else?"

"Actually.. I was curious.. are you a relative of Mr. Willy Wonka?"

"…"

"Sir?"

"I am his father."

"Oh."

"Good day."

"Goo…"

Click.

Hrumph. Well he was not very pleasant. Now how am I going to get to that hospital?

She pulled a map out from the miscellaneous cupboard and looked for the street name. Ah.. only a couple of blocks away. That's not so bad. Better go visit dear ol' dad.

---

Forty minutes later she was at the hospital and _finally_ being directed to a person who actually knew how to check which room a particular patient was in. Morons.

"Miss Collins? Your father is in room one hundred and twenty-five. It's more of a waiting room so that means you can go on in and ask the nurse if he's fit to leave."

"And which way is room one hundred and twenty-five?"

"Let me check the map." The off duty doctor glanced down at something behind the desk and then returned his gaze to her. "Go down the corridor on the right and take a left at the very end. Should be the first door on your right. Have a nice day."

One would think that a person who works in a hospital might actually know how to navigate the building. At least a little. Oh well.

When Chelsea got to the room she found her father looking a little red in the face but otherwise no worse for wear. He was busy attempting to flirt with a very irritated looking nurse.

"Dad?" Chelsea asked, making her father jump slightly and the nurse dawn a look of relief.

"Chelsea! Its about time. They say that I shouldn't be driving for a few days so I had to wait for you to get back. I figured you'd know where I was because Dr. Wonka said he would leave you a message."

"He did. So we can go?" Chelsea asked, looking at the nurse for confirmation. She did not bother to ask her father why he did not just call a cab like she had.

"Yes. Your father is fine. The gas just gave him hives and a fever. Nothing we couldn't take care of in a jiffy."

"Well, can you walk?" Chelsea asked her father.

"Yes, but the car is at Dr. Wonka's office."

"Oh. Well I guess I'd better go and get it and then come get you."

"Yes. Here are the keys."

"Where is Dr. Wonka's office?"

"It's about eight blocks behind this hospital. Its on Ray View Street," supplied the nurse.

Apparently everyone knew about this Dr. Wonka except fro Chelsea. She sighed. It had just started to rain when she had arrived at the hospital so it was probably pouring by now.

"Well, I'll be back in a little while."

"Hurry," commanded her father.

Chelsea just gave a little grunt and left. She noticed that the nurse took her leaving as an opportunity to sneak out before her. Smart woman.

---

It _was_ pouring outside. And, as it had gotten dark already, the lightning was clearly visible in the sky. Joy. A pre-spring thunderstorm for her to walk in. She gathered her coat more tightly about her and pulled up her hood. Thank goodness it had a hood.

When she finally located Dr. Wonka's dental office she saw that there were only two cars in the lot. Must be Dr. Wonka's and her father's. As she approached her father's car she noticed it was parked as close to the front door of the building as possible. Lazy bastard.

She started to pull out the car keys when she thought she heard someone shout "Miss!" at the exact same time as a clap of thunder. Startled slightly, she whirled around. Standing in the doorway to the dentist office was a tall man surrounded by the glow of the light within the building. He beckoned for her to come over to him. Hmm… okay.

Ever cautious, Chelsea slowly approached the man. When she got within six feet of him she stopped.

"Yes?"

"Are you Miss Collins?" 

"..Yes."

"Hello. I am Dr. Wonka. Your father left some things in my office. Let me go collect them for you."

"Alri…aaaachou!" Chelsea sneezed abruptly, causing Dr. Wonka to turn back around and give her a closer inspection.

"Come in and sit by the fire in the lobby while I collect your father's belongings."

"..Oh.. okay.." Chelsea preceded him through the door and only then noticed exactly how soaked she really was. It was like it was still raining except that she was the rain cloud and the hardwood floor of his office was the earth. Crap.

"I'm really sorry Sir.. if you find me a …mop or something I'll clean up this mess before I leave…"

"Nonsense. Its only water, it is fine. Why don't you go into the restroom down the hall on the left and ring out your clothing as best you can and then go sit next to the fire."

"Alright…. Um.. thanks.."

He nodded, turned, and walked in the opposite direction.

After she had her clothing as drip-free as possible and had seated herself on the floor in front of the fire, as she did not want to dampen any of his chairs, she waited for Dr. Wonka to return. Noticing something on the fireplace mantle she rose to her feet to examine it closer. It was a framed picture of Dr. Wonka and a little boy. The little boy was smiling, even though he was wearing the most obtrusive dental head gear, but Dr. Wonka did not look happy. He certainly did not seem the type to enjoy pictures. The little boy must be his son, Willy. Willy Wonka. _Interesting_.

"That was taken a long time ago."

Chelsea jumped and sat the framed picture back on the mantle. She did not even recall having picked it up. Odd.

"Oh, um, is this..?"

"The great Chocolatier and confectionary genius Willy Wonka?"

"Yeah.."

"No. That is my son, Willy. The other .. man.. is someone else all together. If you were to meet him you would understand how I mean." He got a funny expression on his face so Chelsea just looked away.

"Here, your father had taken his wallet out of his pocket to be more comfortable in the chair and he had also brought this …magazine," he gestured to the sports magazine with obvious distaste. She chose not to comment. She accepted the proffered objects with a small smile. So that's why had had not called a cab.

"Well.. thank you for letting me come in and use your restroom and ..for giving me back this stuff."

"You are most welcome. You do not look at all well. Hold on just one second." And with that he walked back into the other room. Chelsea just stood there awkwardly, glancing occasionally back at the picture of father and son. When Dr. Wonka returned he held out a small object for her to take. She took it and brought it up to her face so she could read the label. It was something called Wonka-Vite (Cold and Flu).

"Take that and within one minute you will be feeling.. probably better than you ever have. My.. Willy Wonka made that. I have no idea how he does the things he does but it really works. I purchased some while in the drug store out of simple curiosity one day when I was feeling ill and it worked wonders. Go on; take it before you get back out in the cold." He watched her somewhat eagerly. Unwrapping the odd little pill she looked back at Dr. Wonka.

"Oh, its chewable and tastes like caramel. Nasty stuff that caramel. But as I said, it really does work."

Taking his word for it she plopped the pill into her mouth and began to chew. Mmm.. she loved caramel. After she swallowed it she looked back at Dr. Wonka who appeared to be switching between looking at his watch and at her. So he wanted to see if it worked. Come on, nothing could work _that_ fast. But even as she had this thought she could feel her body starting to heat up slightly. Ut-oh…

"Its fine. If I remember correctly, you should start to feel warm and then a bit tingly. And after that you'll feel normal. Well, better than normal. You should have more energy than usual and feel like you're walking on clouds. The walking on clouds affect only lasts a few minutes but the extra energy and the complete restoration of your health should last for a couple of weeks."

"Wow… this is… unbelievable."

"Indeed."

"Well.. thank you very much. I.. well my father is waiting."

"Right. Come along, I'll walk you to your car."

---

Later that evening when her father was settled into bed, Chelsea chose to take a nice long, hot, bath. It was still relatively early. She brought her cell with her into the bathroom and sat it on the toilet next to the tub. When she was relaxed and feeling much better largely due to the strange little miracle pill she looked over at the phone, decision finally made. Reaching out, she dried her hand on the nearby towel and grabbed her cell. She went over exactly what she wanted to say to him for the hundredth time.

"Good evening Mr. Wonka. My name is Chelsea. I am.. a friend of Violet Beauregarde. I think that you have made her suffer long enough and that her punishment does not befit her past actions. The responsible, mature, and right thing to do would be to create poor Violet a cure."

There, that sounded fine. Before she could change her mind she flipped open the cell and selected his number from the list. Then she pressed call.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Oh please don't let me have to hear that awful..

"Hello? Its your lucky day.. I mean night. You found me in my office! Now, whadya want?" The words that he'd spoken coming from any other man would have been very rude, but the way he said it and in such a little boy voice nearly made Chelsea drop her phone from shock. It was a good thing that it only _nearly_ made her drop her phone as she was in the bath. She sat up more and leaned against the back wall of the tub for support. Then she drew in a very deep breath… and promptly closed the phone effectively cutting off the call.

Damn.

I just hung up on Willy Wonka.

Oh well. He deserved it. The wanker.

How am I supposed to get him to even consider making Violet a cure if I can't even talk to the man?

If you could even call him a man.

Urgh…

She opened her phone back up and looked at his name in her address book.

Now he'll never talk to me, but I have to try again.

And so she pressed call.

Ring.

"Why did you hang up on me, didn't anyone ever teach you that that is very rude?" Came the rather irritated man boy voice.

"Uhh, … I.. uhm… m… sor.." Chelsea could barely form a complete word let alone an intelligible sentence.

"You know, you shouldn't mumble, it makes it ever so difficult to tell what you are saying," he said cockily.

"S..sorry," was the only response she could manage. What the heck was wrong with her all of the sudden?

"Apology accepted. Now, who are you and why are you calling me?"

Bugger.

"I. I'm. My name is .. Chelsea.. and I .." 

"Am still mumbling."

"Sorry. I wanted to say something to you."

"Well great! Now that that's done we can both get on with our lives. Toodle-oo."

"Wait…"

"Waiting."

"…"

"Not gonna wait like _forever_.."

"…"

"Well what is it you wanted to say to me? …Kelsey."

"Its Chelsea."

"Uh huh _and_?"

"…"

"Go on…"

"I.."

"You have until the count of four.."

"Four?"

"I don't like three. One.."

"Urhh.."

"Two.."

"I mean.."

"Three…"

"Your answering machine message is absolutely ridiculous!" Shit.

"…"

"…Sorry?"

Click.

Well that went well.


	5. Harassment

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

Also, in the previous chapter and in the future I would like to point out that I will be (and did) using quotes from the movie(s) and possibly from the book. I mean.. you KNOW what they are. I KNOW what they are. I did NOT write them and I do NOT want credit for writing them. Only kudos for inserting them in the appropriate or humorous places in my fic.

Thank you.

---

Ch 5: Harassment.

Based on last night's unfortunate couple of attempts at conversing with the great chocolate maker, Chelsea had come to another important decision. She lay in bed in deep thought, until she got very upset. That sadness eventually turned into anger which rapidly grew into a very bitter type of determination. She had decided that she was not only going to _continue_ trying to have a successful conversation in which she got her message across to Mr. Wonka, but that she was also going to call him every hour on the hour until he grew up and acquiesced.

Having awoken and lain in bed for a good quarter hour, staring gloomily yet resolutely through her slightly parted curtains at the factory, she decided that it was time for her good morning call to the psychopath. Gathering her courage she grabbed her cell and flipped it open.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Good morning Starshine! What can I do yah for?" Came the very enthusiastic greeting.

"Uhh… Hello.. Mr. Wonka?" She did have to be sure after all.

"Indeedy."

"Well. Um, I called you last night and.."

"Oh."

"And I.."

"Were very rude and did not like my answering machine message."

"Well about that…wait, _I_ was rude?"

Click.

He hung up on me! And he said I was rude. That evil…

Chelsea was not going to let that candy man get off so easily.

Ring. Ring.

"Goodm.."

"YOU are the one who was rude to ME and your answering machine song is egotistical and silly and.."

"Oh. Its you. Again." He cut her off, sounding very disappointed.

"I want to TALK to you about something really important but you are too immature to even listen.."

"Look here missy, this is my private office number. Mine! And I do not recall having given my card to anyone named Kristy. How _did_ you get this number? Huh? Huh?"

"My name is not KRISTY!"

"The CARD?" He demanded, impatiently.

Chelsea took a deep breath. This was both good and bad. It was good because it opened up the possibility of having an actual conversation with him. One that would lead to the topic she wanted to discuss. It was bad because he probably was not going to be very keen on the idea of making Violet a cure if he was reminded of what her mother had done to his office.

"I got it.. from my step.. err.. ex-step sister." Maybe he would just let it drop.

"And just _who_ would she happen to _be_?"

She signed quite audibly. "Violet Beauregarde."

"Ah."

"…"

"So her mangy mother stole it while she was ransacking my office."

"I guess so."

"Wait, your step sister?"

"Ex. Yes."

"So your father..?"

"Yep."

"Ew."

"Yeah.."

"Look," he began, sounding serious all of the sudden. "Just because that _woman_ stole my personal office number does not give you the right to just call me whenever you feel like it."

"I know. I'm not. I have a reason."

"_Do_ tell."

"… It's about Violet."

"Oh I just can't _wait_ to hear this," he replied sarcastically.

"I think that you should make her a cure."

"You can't just _cure_ brattysnobbiesnoodyness. She would have to undergo years of rehabilitation and even then.."

"NO! I mean her purple blueish.. err.. that horrid color you turned her!"

"_I_ did not turn anyone, well not any of those _people _anyway any horrid colors thank you very much."

"But.."

"No but's about it Keirsten."

"Chelsea!"

"Buh-bye now."

"Wai.."

Click.

"AAARRGGGAHHH!" Chelsea roared. What an insufferable…freak!

Completely forgetting about her once an hour plan she quickly called him again.

Ring.

"Stop calling me!"

"NO!"

"This is harassment you know.. I could have you.."

"Arrested? Killed? Turned into fudge? Puh-lease."

"I am not a murderer.. intentionally. And I would never sell little girl flavored fudge. Ew."

"Grow up!"

"Uh I _am_ a grown up. You are the snotty little phone harasser."

"Hah.. you mean I'm harassing your phone."

"Yes. My poor phone hasn't had a break in quite a few minutes because of you. You should be quite ashamed."

"Well I'm not. And if you weren't such a shit and would actually hear me out then you might find that I could easily be persuaded to never call this number again."

"It would be that easy?"

"Yes." 

"I'm all ears then."

"Good. Now," Chelsea hesitated for a moment trying to remember her little speech before continuing. "You have made poor Violet suffer for long enough. She didn't do anything deserving of what you.. er.. she.. what that stick of _gum_ did to her. The.. mature thing to do would be to.."

"Mature?"

"Yes.. and it would be to create her a cure so she wouldn't have to be purple anymore!" Chelsea paused for a long moment allowing him to articulate an adequate response.

"Oh, you're done talking?" He finally said after several seconds.

"…Yes.."

"Kay then. Ta!"

Click.

What? Oh not _again_…

But for the rest of the early part of the day every time she called back all she got was that annoying answering machine message. Finally, after hearing the first few lines of that message about eight hundred times she decided to actually leave a message.

Beep.

"Mr. Wonka. This is Chelsea. I would first like to say that you are a pompous ass. Now then, please call me back on the number that I know you can get being a billionaire who must certainly have caller I.D., so that we can discuss the right thing that you _will_ do as mature adults. Thank you."

---

For the rest of that day and half of the next she did not receive any calls from any famous Chocolatiers. And every time she attempted to call him again she only got through to _that_ answering machine message. So she decided to leave as many messages as possible until his machine could not hold any more. They varied in intelligence and purpose.

Beep.

"Mr. Wonka this is immature and ridiculous. For heavens sake answer your phone!"

Beep.

"Violet has been purple for eight years. EIGHT YEARS! You need to fix her!"

Beep.

"Hello? Are you there just…listening?"

Beep.

"I HATE YOU!!!"

Beep.

"Grow up candy man! Take some responsibility!"

---

She left numerous messages over the next few days, and his machine never seemed to get completely full. She was starting to lose hope when she was struck by an idea. Maybe if she changed tactics just a little she could get him to come around.

The message she left on the fifth day of her message leaving marathon was quite different from all of the rest. The first noticeable difference was that she called much later in the evening than she ever had previously. She called at about 11pm when all of her other messages had been left before 5pm. Another difference was that she assumed the softest most forlorn voice that she could muster. And her message was quite different as well.

Beep.

"………..I'm so sorry. I only wish you would talk to me for a little while. ………. Please?" She deliberately inserted the long pauses for affect and the very last word was said with a sorrowful begging quality.

Little did she know, Mr. Wonka had been listening to most of her messages with growing interest. He found them to be very amusing. The last one, one which he was _not_ expecting while he was actually working at his desk, caught him completely off guard. His hand turned against him and picked up the phone.

"…Hello?"

Honestly, Chelsea was not expecting him to be _in_ his office at this time of night, so when he answered she said the first thing that popped into her head.

"What?"

"I said hello."

"Oh. Um. Hi."

"Hello."

"…"

"…"

It seemed neither of them could find something to actually say. He was the first to recover.

"So.. you wanted to talk?" he said rather hesitantly.

"Uhh.. yeah.."

"So talk."

Chelsea's plan was to do something to make him think highly enough of her to consider honoring her request. How did one go about making someone think highly of them?

"How was your day?" She asked, finally deciding to just go with simple courtesy.

"What?"

"Your day. How was it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, did you do anything exciting or fun?"

He had the inclination to say that the only fun thing that happened was listening to all of her insane and entertaining messages but he quickly squelched it.

"Um. Well… no not really."

"Oh, ok."

After thinking it over a bit he finally offered, "You?"

"Me what?"

"Did you um.. have a nice day?"

Chelsea was not expecting him to actually be civil even though that was what she designed her plan to accomplish.

"Yeah, I guess so. I mean.. it was alright."

"..Okay."

"….Look, uh.. Mr. Wonka.. I'm really sorry about those messages I've been leaving.. some of them were.."

He actually _giggled_ before responding, "Pretty entertaining."

She could practically hear the smile on his face. Great, so he found all of her suffering and anger amusing did he?

"Gee.. thanks."

"Well they were. I mean, come on.. half of the time it was just you screaming profanity. Hah!"

"I'm glad you enjoyed my frustration."

"Heh, me too."

"…"

"That one where you screamed you hated me and my _jolly little theme song_ and then proceeded to make up new lyrics for it making fun of me was really really funny! I nearly snorted my fizzleberry soda tea right out my nose! Hah!"

"…"

"Erm.. little girl?"

"…"

"Are you there?"

"I'm not a little girl you know."

"Well you sure act like one."

"You sound like you're five so you shouldn't talk."

"Humph."

"..."

"So how old _are_ you anyways oh girl who claims to not be so little?" He said snootily.

"I'm twenty-three."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well I'm a billionaire so there."

Chelsea groaned.

"Did you just pass gas?" He snickered.

"No. But I think I might have lost a little bit of my intelligence just from listening to your voice for so long." She retorted.

"Well then stop listening to my voice smarty pants."

"I.." she caught herself before she said that she could not stop listening or else she would never get him to cooperate and said instead, "But I like listening to it."

"To what?"

"To your voice."

"Oh."

"…"

"Really?"

Chelsea twitched.

"Yep. So tell me, what is your favorite color?"

But rather than answering her question he said something else.

"I uhm.. its really late.. I have so little to do and so much…. I mean.. gotta sleep to dream! Er.. bye now.." He said in a jerky rush.

Click.

Chelsea sat staring at her phone for a solid two minutes before closing it and sitting it on her bedside table. That was odd. Maybe he did not have a favorite color. Oh well. And so she resolved to call him again sometime tomorrow. She felt sure that this new plan was a very good one and would be successful in the end. She turned off her lamp and fell asleep shortly.

---

Willy Wonka on the other hand stayed awake and in his seat for quite some time staring off into space and drumming his purple gloved fingers on his desk, completely lost in thought.

He really needed to talk to Charlie.


	6. Help With a New Friend

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 6: Help With a New Friend

After a night of strange dreams featuring faceless little girls screaming his name and destroying his office, Willy was in a rather peculiar mood. He was trying to force himself to pretend that the phone calls and messages were not having any affect on him, but as he looked at his reflection in the mirror that morning while brushing his hair, he had to admit otherwise. He looked tired and troubled.

Why was he letting some random little, okay maybe not so little, girl get to him? It was just the whole situation; a rather different phenomenon in his rather extraordinary yet predictable life. It also had a lot to do with what she had said in that last conversation. She _liked_ his voice? That was a very odd thing to say and it was making him very confused. So, he had resolved to seek out Charlie's opinion while working that day. But what would he say?

---

When Charlie came to the inventing room that morning he found his mentor setting in a spinning chair in the center of the room, twirling himself round and round at top speed, much to the amusement of the on looking Oompa Loompas. After Charlie cleared his throat, the spinning immediately halted. One would expect that someone who had been spinning in circles for an indeterminate amount of time would be falling from his seat and at least slightly green in the face. Willy however, stopped facing directly at Charlie, sprang from his seat, replaced his hat upon his head, and gave him a huge grin.

"Ah Charlie!" Willy exclaimed.

"Hullo Willy," Charlie replied, assuming a curious expression.

"Whats up Chuck?"

"Don't call me that. I was just wondering why you were… spinning instead of working on the maple chocolate bites?"

"Oh! Well why would I work on it when I wanted you too?"

"Well lets get started then!"

"Okie dokie pokey!" Willy turned and walked over to the ingredient cart and began collecting what Charlie would need.

---

When Charlie was well on his way to creating the perfect new candy, Willy noticed that he was being far too quiet. How was he supposed to ask him questions if he was not even talking? So, to get things rolling Willy started to hum.

"What song are you humming?" Charlie asked and then immediately wished he could take back the question.

In response Willy sang, "My, my, this here Bucket guy, may be Wonka some day later now he's just a small fry. He…"

"Hey!" Charlie interrupted. "I am not a small fry!"

"Hah. Maybe not but you are a Bucket!" Willy giggled.

"Why do I always ask?" Charlie said, shaking his head at himself.

"Because you are like a cat whose curiosity always gets the better of him. Heh, yeah!"

"Is there a reason you are purposefully trying to distract me from my task?"

"No! .. well.."

"_Willy._"

Willy sucked in a deep breath.

"Saytherewasthispersonwhokeptcallingyoubutisreallyweirdyetkindaniceandsayyoudon'tknowwhattodoshouldyoukeeptalkingtothemorchangeyournumberorgoseeyourshrinkorwhat?" Willy said in a rush, running all of his words together.

Charlie caught some of what he said but he had to get clarification on the rest.

"What?"

Willy sighed and his face became quite solemn.

"How can you tell if someone really wants to be your friend or not?" He said, studying his gloved hands which were clasped together on his lap.

"Oh. Well.. uh.. I guess if they want to talk to you a lot and to get to know you. And if they are nice to you. I suppose those things could mean they are trying to befriend you."

"Hmmm kay.." Willy looked thoughtful.

"Is someone trying to be your friend?" Charlie asked. How in the world could someone even talk to Willy Wonka? He never _went_ anywhere. Well he did mention a phone call.

"Hey Charlie." Willy disregarded Charlie's question altogether.

"Yeah?"

"Do you.. still have that gift your f-father gave to you a couple years ago?

"Which?"

"That celluwhatsit phone thingy with the cool ear piece?"

"Oh, yeah. I haven't even taken it out of the package since Christmas before last. I never really got the urge to use it."

"Uh, okay..can… would you mind…?"

"You want it? Dad wouldn't mind. Yeah he'd just be happy someone was actually using it! I'll give it to you after dinner."

"Kay! That'd be swell! Thanks!"

"No problem."

Willy simply responded with another of his huge grins.

"Um Willy?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful, okay?"

"Be careful with what?"

"Well.. I suppose you would know better than most that some people can be untrustworthy…"

"Oh. Yeah! Heh… pssssht... Don't worry about things like that Charlie!"

"Alright."

"Get back to work you silly slacker!"

"Willy?"

"Yeah?"

"Go away."

"…._fine._" Willy smirked and left to go find something else to do for the rest of the day so his apprentice could work in peace.

---

After dinner Willy gave the cellular phone and ear piece too his resident electrician Oompa Loompa, Stan. The coolest thing about the Oompa Loompas was how quickly they could learn. He could give them, say, a few books on the art of woodworking and within a week he would have his very own little group of carpenters! Stan found a way to connect his personal office phone to his cell number. When the office phone rang, he could answer it on his cell. And the best part was that with the ear piece in, if he got a call it would beep in his ear and all he had to do was reach up and press a little button on the earpiece and viola, he was talking on the phone! Very convenient. Now he could be anywhere in the factory doing anything at all and still get his phone calls. He brushed aside the fact that it was one phone call in particular that he was starting to look forward to the most.

---

Two days after having had her first civil conversation with Mr. Wonka, Chelsea was inexplicably happier than she had been in quite some time. Spring had also begun to grace the town with its presence and so the beautiful sunny day added to her pleasant mood. Being such a lovely day, she decided that it would be suitable to go to the park and do some sketching. She also brought her cell. She had not been able to call Mr. Wonka again the day after their good conversation because her father had made her clean the entire house. She had been exhausted. Nevertheless today was beautiful and she was not going to waste it.

Sitting in the grass, cross legged, and chewing on the end of her pencil, Chelsea felt that her latest drawing of the factory was by far one of her best. Instead of being foreboding and dreary, it was well, it. She had finally done an actual sketch of the factory just as it was. She felt proud of this feat. Sighing contentedly, she lay down her sketch pad and pencil and pulled out her cell.

I wonder if he is in his office?

Ring. Ring.

"Hi!" Came the very cheerful answer.

"Hello. Its Chelsea. Um. So you're in your office? You're usually not in there at this time…"

"Hah.. its funny that you _know_ that you little stalker."

"I'm not a stalker. I just.. well.."

"I _was _teasing."

"Okay.."

"Yeah.."

And then there was a very long lull in the conversation in which they both cleared their throats. Twice. And Willy started to hum nervously.

"Oh NO.. please do _not_ hum _that_ song!" Chelsea exclaimed after recognizing it as the answering machine message.

"Why not? It's got a perfectly hum worthy tune!"

"If you say so."

"I do."

"Whatever."

"Well whatever then."

"…"

"…"

And then they both broke out in fits of laughter. Willy was the first to pull himself together.

"So, whatcha doin?"

"I'm talking on the phone."

"You have _two_ phones?"

"No.. I'm talking to _you_ on the phone, duh! What are you doing? Aside from taking to me. Paperwork?"

"No, actually I'm in the nut room. One of the squirrels got its little paw stu"

"Squirrels!?"

"Oh. Er.. nevermind. Yeah, I'm just working .. yah know.. busy factory and all."

"So you're not in your office."

"No. I got a cell."

"But I didn't call your cell number."

"Okay well lets just say I got my office number hooked up to where I can answer it from anywhere in the factory."

"..Okay."

"Uhm.. yeah.. I'm. Um.. a very busy man you know. I get _hundreds_ of phone calls a day from very important people. I can't be in my office all the time or else the factory would surely go under."

"Well your new getup sounds very convenient."

"Yep!"

"…"

"…"

"So.. what _is_ your favorite col.." but Willy did not get to hear the end of her question. He only heard her phone drop and then some faint voices that sounded like they were arguing.

Click.

What the devil?

About half an hour later she finally called him back.

Ring.

"Hello?!" He answered, sounding slightly worried.

"Hi. I'm sorry about hanging up on you like that. Well _I_ didn't."

"Then who did? I heard someone else in the background."

"It was my father."

"Why'd he hang up on me?"

"He didn't even know I was talking to someone. Not that that would have mattered. He just picked up my phone after I had dropped it which caused it to close which caused it to hang up on you."

"Why'd you drop your phone in the first place?"

"Because he …" Chelsea sighed, she may as well tell him the whole story or else it would not make any sense at all. "I was at the park drawing and he didn't know where I was. He.. well.. my father is a bit of an alcoholic. When he gets.. you know.. well he gets all weird and paranoid. He walked around the block for awhile then finally found me at the park. He came up behind me and grabbed my arm to pull me to my feet which caused me to drop the phone."

"Oh."

"Yeah he … just wanted me to come home so he that he'd know where I was. Um.. so he didn't have to worry.. or something.." Chelsea lied. Her father wanted her to come home so that she could make him lunch and then go fetch him some more rum. She was driving to the store as they spoke. He also left her with a pretty nasty bruise on her wrist.

"He's an alcoholic?"

"Yeah. Sometimes." 

"That doesn't sound ..like a good f-father."

"Yeah well.. that doesn't matter. So what is your favorite color? You never told me you know."

"Purple. Well, maroon. Why do you still live with your father anyhow?"

"Because …well because I do."

"Do you have a job?"

"I don't need to work, we have money."

"Kay.."

"Look, um.. I gotta go," she said suddenly. She had just arrived at the store and did not want him to overhear her asking for the rum.

"Oh. Um. Okay."

"Yeah…"

"Well, are yah gonna call me back Kathy?"

"Its Chelsea and maybe _not_ if you keep forgetting my name."

All she received in response was a giggle.

"Bye Mr. Wonka."

"You can call me Willy.. um.. if.. if you want to that is.. I mean you don't _have_ to or anyting…"

"..Alright. Bye _Willy_. See, I can say _your_ name!"

"And you get an A plus for your hard work!"

"Ugh… whatever I'm hanging up now."

"Kay. Ciao."

"..Bye."

Click.

Chelsea sat in the car a few moments just staring blankly at the steering wheel.

He said I could call him by his first name! I _did_ call him by his first name! …Hmm.

Things were evidently becoming more and more…. according to plan. This thought caused her to experience a sharp pang of guilt. Pangs of guilt could not be a good thing. Drat.


	7. Getting to Know You

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 7: Getting to Know You

A few hours after her rum run for her father, Chelsea decided to take a nice long walk. The small pang of guilt she had felt earlier seemed miles away, as if the minutes themselves could wipe away anything negative that might have stood in the way of the wonderful thing she was trying to accomplish for Violet. The day was so gorgeous that she could not help but want to be outside. She had also brought her cell phone, of course, so that she could decide whether or not she wanted to call back the candy man. It was not a very tough decision.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hello?" Willy answered. His breathing sounded strained, as if he was doing some sort of exercise.

"Um, are you jogging or something?" Chelsea asked, forgetting the fact that he might not even know that it was her who was calling.

He knew.

"Yes, actually. I've just… well.."

"What?"

"Well I can't really _tell_ you."

"Why?"

"Because.. I don't know if you are trustworthy with factory secrets yet or not."

"Um, okay. Well I'm not a spy or thief and I have no plans to go into the candy making business that I am currently aware of so.." Chelsea trailed off.

"I just can't. Sorry."

".._Okay_." Chelsea did not know why his refusal to tell her what he was currently doing angered her slightly but it did.

"I suppose you could say I invented something.. that …tastes better.. when running." Willy said in between intakes of breath.

"Sounds weird."

"_Weird_ isn't necessarily a bad thing my dear Leslie."

"Ugh."

"Heh, you're easy."

"What?"

"It is easy to get you angry."

"…"

"And its fun as well!"

Chelsea was just about to delve into the possible reasons he could have for tormenting her when her thoughts were cut short by a commotion on the other end of the line.

"Ompfh!" Willy exclaimed followed shortly by a loud banging sound.

"What on Earth just happened to you?" She was more curious than worried. It sounded amusing.

"I ran into something."

All he got was a quick "Ha!" in response.

"You wouldn't be laughing if it were _you_ who just ran into a wall."

"How did you manage to run into a wall?!" She could not have kept the humor out of her voice even if she had tried.

"My factory is …ever changing. Surprises around every corner you could say."

Chelsea suddenly found herself being overcome by a fit of giggles. She could not stop the first small laugh from rushing out but she clamped her free hand over her mouth quickly in efforts to stop.

"Stop laughing."

"No." She could not fight it and he was not making it easier on her.

"Yes."

"No!"

"Fine!"

Increasing amount of giggles.

Before he knew it Willy found himself smiling. Hearing her laugh was …_fascinating_.

Chelsea noticed that he had stopped talking and so her amusement quickly evaporated. Had he hung up on her? Was he angry with her laughter?

"Um.. you there candy man?"

"Yes." Although she could not see it, Willy's grin widened immensely at her words.

"Okay. You got awfully quiet. Thought you might've died from head trauma or something."

"Nope. Heh, I like it when you call me candy man." Willy slapped his hand over his mouth in surprise. Did he just say that out loud? Wait, what was wrong with him having said it out loud? He was confused again.

"Well I like it when you call me Chelsea too, oh wait, you _don't_."

All she got in response to that was a quiet "Heh heh."

"You're insufferable Willy."

"No I'm not silly butt, or you wouldn't be _suffering_ me right now now wouldja?"

"Bah! See what I mean?"

"How can you see what someone means? Its not like its tangible."

Chelsea shook her head and smiled to herself. Silly Willy.

"You're really silly Willy."

"Why uh thank you little rhyme maker," he said in his mock respectable sophisticated old man voice.

"Um.. your welcome?"

Both laughed again.

"I'm glad you're smiling Nessie."

"Ah! Are you watching me right now? And _Nessie _is the Loch Ness Monster's name thank you very much."

"Hah! No way! But I do know that when people are laughing they are also smiling. And monster is a very harsh term by the way."

"Well… okay fine.. yeah I _was_ smiling...a bit.."

"Told ya."

"Yeah yeah.. so what if I was?"

"…You just don't seem like you smile very often.. I mean.. at home probably.. I mean I wouldn't if my f-father was an.. well.. so I ..well I'm glad you are smiling now. That's all," Willy replied, his voice low.

Chelsea suddenly got very uncomfortable. She did not want to talk about her home life with him. It really was none of his business. She got very quiet and could not think of anything to say that might sway him from this line of conversation. Her lack of speaking saved her in the long run.

"Uh, are you still there lil' girl?"

She signed. A small smile appeared on her face despite her now feigned annoyance.

"Yes I'm still here."

"Good! I thought a wicked Wangdoodle got yah or something! That woulda been terrible! ..for you I mean.."

"I'm just gonna let it slide when you mention strange things like that."

"Whatever you wanna do Susie-Q!"

"I have _never_ meant someone as completely spacey as y…" but she cut her speech off abruptly.

She had just looked up, as she had been watching her feet for a few seconds, and found herself face to face with the boy that she had met at the park. She halted her steps immediately to avoid collision.

"Well hello," she addressed the boy, momentarily forgetting that she was also on the phone, though she still held it to her ear.

"Uh, I thought we got that part out of the way already." Willy jokingly responded into her ear.

"Oh, not _you_," she commented, looking away from the boy who had thankfully also come to a stop and was smiling at her funny commentary with her phone friend.

"Then who.."

"Hold on one sec.." she said to Willy and then pulled the phone down to her side to once again address the boy.

"Um.. hi?" She said.

"Who me?" He said. They both laughed. "Fancy nearly colliding with you," he continued, jokingly.

"You would have had to do it on purpose because the chances of us both not watching where we were going are pretty slim." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah," was all he said to that.

"Um.. hold on," she said to the boy. Then, lifting the phone back to her ear she said, "Um, I'll call you back in a little while."

"Is it your father?" Willy sounded slightly worried again.

"No."

"Oh. Then who _is_ it?"

"Its noneya."

"Who?"

"Noneya business!" She could not help but laugh. He did set himself up for that one. The boy from the park also chuckled quietly.

"Um okay.." Willy did not seem to catch the joke, or if he did he was not very amused.

"It's…" she glanced up at the boy and then looked away again. "Its just someone I met once and am now meeting again so I'm going to talk to him now and I'll call you right back, okay?" She sounded slightly annoyed for having to say this in front of the person about whom she was referring but Willy was not exactly worried about that.

"Him?" he responded.

"Bye."

"Uh okay. Bye."

Click.

She slid her phone into her pocket and returned her gaze to park boy.

"Your friend seemed pretty nosey," he remarked.

"Don't ask," she said, rolling her eyes. "So, um.. whats up?" She ventured.

"Nothing. Just out taking a walk. I like to get out of.. well.. work sometimes when the weather is nice. I'd go insane if I .. worked to much.." he said, trailing off.

"Yeah me too. I mean I like to get out. I don't work. It is a really beautiful day."

"That it is."

"Yeah.." she shifted all of her weight onto one leg.

"Um… do you wanna ..maybe go and get some lunch or something?" He asked suddenly, his eyes quickly falling to the sidewalk and his face lightly reddening.

Startled by the question she immediately answered, "No!" and then realized that she might have given him the wrong impression. "I'm sorry.. I mean.. I ..can't. I would love to but.. I really need to be getting home," she lied. She had never been asked out before and having her first time be from a boy that she had only met on two very short occasions was not her idea of appropriate. He smiled knowingly.

"Alright. That's fine. Maybe next time?"

"If there _is_ a next time."

He did not seem put off.

"Oh I'm sure there will be. I don't live too far from here and I have seen you before. Just... I was too busy to stop and say hello."

"Oh. Um. Okay. Well I'd better get going home." She really did not know what to say to this boy. He was friendly enough, and decent looking, but he made her a little edgy. And had he been watching her?

"Hey! Since you have to go home, and I just started my walk, what say I walk you to your house?" He offered with a big smile.

She almost turned him down but he sounded and looked so honestly interested in walking her home that she found she could not refuse.

"Okay, sure."

She turned around and started walking in the direction of her house and he jogged a little to catch up and fell into step beside her. They walked in companionable silence for about a block until the boy from the park spoke.

"So.. draw any new pictures of the factory lately?"

"Yeah actually.."

"Still evil looking?" He said, chuckling.

"Not as much. I think I made it look.. well… a little more accurate."

"Well that's good.. I guess. Unless you liked drawing it all sinister looking?" He teased, elbowing her arm playfully. He saw her blush a bit at the contact which in turn caused his cheeks to redden again as well. They walked the rest of the way in silence.

When they came to Chelsea's house she turned to face her escort.

"Um, thank you for walking me home."

"No problem at all. I like exercise.. I'm always working, going, going, going. My.. _boss_.. well he's really a workaholic.. wound up tight he is," he replied with another smile.

"Does he overwork you?" She tried to sound more interested than she actually was.

"Nah.. well.. sometimes.. but I gotta learn.. I mean.. you know.. gotta.. get paid…" he trailed off and dropped his gaze to his shoes. Chelsea got the feeling that he was deliberately hiding something from her but knew that it was not her place to insist that he reveal anything, so she let it drop.

"Well I .. I really should get in.. my ..dad might be ..worried or something.."

"Um, Chelsea?"

She was surprised that he had remembered her name, unlike _some_ people.

"Yes?"

"Would it be alright if.. um.. well if I had your phone number? I mean.. I enjoy talking to you.. and .. well if I had your number I mean.. we could.. talk more ..and .. well…?" He looked like a fish out of water so she decided to save him.

"Sure.. I guess… um.. let me just go write it down for you and I'll be right back, okay?"

"Sure!" He smiled widely.

She went inside and wrote down her cell number on a napkin because it was the only thing immediately at hand. When she returned outside to give it to him she was struck by a horrifying sight. Her father was yelling at him and he looked like he was about to cry.

"DAD!" Chelsea screamed. She ran over and grabbed her father's arm and coaxed him into the house. He must have been in the garage and saw them approach. When they got in the house she gestured for the boy to stay and slammed the door.

"What the HELL was that about?" She screamed, temporarily forgetting to whom she was speaking.

Her father pushed her away from him and shouted, "Who was the _boy_? Someone you've been seeing? Are you _sleeping_ with him? Is he rich? Are you just trying to get his fucking money?"

Chelsea was so overwhelmed that she nearly started to cry herself. Why did her father have to be such an ass? More importantly, why right now?

"He's a friend, a guy I JUST met! Now he's never going to want to talk to me ever again because he'll be afraid of you!" She screamed and ran out the front door. She walked over to the boy who was standing on the corner two houses away from hers still looking quite frightened.

She held the napkin out to him without making eye contact and said, "If you still want it."

He took it. "Of course I still want it.. but.. just.. wow.." he responded.

"Yeah.. that's my dad," she said with false cheer.

"I could smell the alcohol on his breath… I mean.. as he was.. you know.. right in my face and all.."

"Yeah. What did he scream at you?"

"He said that I should get lost and that you ..well that you were just after my money if I have any and that if I didn't leave that he'd make me.."

"I'm so sorry," Chelsea said and put her hands over her face. She did not like it when her father's abusive behavior was directed at other people.

He reached out and took her hands in his and lowered them. He did not let go of them until after he said, "You have nothing to be sorry about. You did not make him do that and you could not have seen it coming. My mom had a friend whose dad was an alcoholic and she said you could never predict what he'd do. Its okay, I'm not mad or anything."

She gave him a small smile that he easily returned.

"I.. better go.." she said.

"Will you be alright?"

"Yes. I'm always alright."

"Okay."

"Um, call me.. whenever you feel like it."

"Will do."

She turned and walked rather quickly back to her house without looking back. He watched her go and stayed for a couple of minutes just to make sure he did not hear any commotion. This situation was definitely not good.


	8. Worry

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

WARNING: This chapter deals with some adult themes that might offend or freak some people out. It is very important to the storyline though. Missing it would make you very lost. But if you must.. you must.

---

Ch 8: Worry

It was only later that day after having lain on her bed for hours with the covers over her head pouting about the ridiculous timing her father seemed to have, that Chelsea remembered she had said she would call Willy _right_ back. Oops. She got up, turned on her lamp because it had begun to get dark, and walked over to her door. She opened it a crack and heard her father's snores rising up the stairs. Good, he passed out. She gently shut her door and went back over to her bed. She propped up her pillows, grabbed her cell, and made herself comfortable. Then she proceeded to keep her word. Better late than never.

Ring.

"Hello?"

"Hi Willy."

"You said you'd call me _right _back." He responded, his voice betrayed his anxiety but was still soft to show that he was not angry.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that."

"Did you have fun?"

An accusation?

"Doing what?"

"Talking to your new friend?"

Yep.

"Oh, um.. well kinda .. I guess."

"Okay…."

"…"

"…"

"We didn't actually get to talk much. He just walked me home and then…" Chelsea could not decide if she wanted to tell him what her father had done. It was none of his business but she really wanted to rant about her father to someone and Willy seemed the perfect person.

"..And then?" Willy sounded a little too interested.

"Well… my father kinda attacked him."

"Oh!" The shock was evident in his voice. He had clearly been expecting her to say something completely different.

"Well not physically. He just.. well, I went into the house to write down my number to give to him and.."

"You gave him your number?"

"Yeah, so? He wanted it."

"…Okay."

"Anyway, and then when I came back outside my father was yelling at him so I pulled my father back inside and then screamed at _him_."

"What did he do?" Willy's voice was suddenly very small.

"He ..well he shoved me away then screamed back at me."

"What did he say?"

"He accused me of …having sle… well.. of trying to use my friend for his money or some rubbish."

"You wouldn't do that." It was a statement not a question.

"Yeah.. thanks.."

"So um, he pushed you?"

"Yeah."

"Are you alright?"

"What? Oh yeah. It was nothing."

"It was _not_ nothing."

"Well it could have been worse couldn't it?" Chelsea did not like it when people pitied her unnecessarily.

"I suppose."

"Okay then. Listen, I don't wanna talk about that anymore, okay?"

"Okay."

"Say something funny to cheer me up."

"Uhm.."

"Oh got nuthin when yer needed huh?" she teased.

"I think my words are kinda broken right now. But if you were here I could do a funny jig or something…"

She giggled.

"Hey, that was funny?"

"Yep."

"Yay!"

"Thanks."

"Anytime starshine!"

"You're so weird Willy."

"You say weird a lot you weirdo."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" Chelsea rolled her eyes.

"Hey," Willy asked suddenly.

"Hay is for horses!" Chelsea retorted playfully.

"And cows like you!" Willy jovially included himself in the fun.

"Hey!" It was Chelsea's turn to be mock hurt.

"Hah hah, madya say it too!"

"Urgh. Whatever, what did you want?"

"Oh um, earlier you said you'd been at the park drawing. What do you draw?"

Hmm well this was awkward. "Um, mostly your factory actually…"

"Really?!" Willy seemed overjoyed by this fact.

"Yep. Well how could I not? Its right _there_ and so huge. It definitely draws the eye.. although that's not always a good thing."

"You can see my factory from your house?" 

"I bet the whole city can."

"Well.. yeah your probably right heh. But what do you mean its not always a good thing to draw the eye?"

"Well its just that its so… _dull._"

"Uh my factory is anything but dull my dear lady."

"Oh! So I've moved up from little girl, huh?"

"Slip of the tongue, dilly dum."

"Note that I just rolled my eyes at you for the second time in this conversation alone."

"Noted. But not at me, at my words."

"Your words are you."

"_I_ am me."

"You remind me of the Cheshire cat Willy."

"Which cat?"

"The one in Alice in Wonderland."

"Ohh Wonderland sounds like a very nice place."

"I'm sure that it is."

Mutual laughter.

"I would take you to Wonderland if I could."

He sounded so sincere as he said this that it rendered Chelsea speechless. After a few moments hesitation she finally said in a quiet voice, "that was very sweet of you to say."

"Oh but I invented sweet. Okay not really but I do invent sweets!"

She giggled. "Of course."

"Um speaking of inventing sweets I've got some of that to actually _do_!"

"That sounds kinda fun."

"It really is!"

"Well it's a good thing you enjoy it seeing as it is your job."

"Yep!"

"Candy man."

"Yeppers. So um.. I have to hang up because sometimes when I'm inventing I talk to myself and well I would be divulging factory secrets to you and all…"

"Okay. I wanna take a nice hot bath anyway."

"…"

"Talk to you later?"

"….Yeah.. er.. well um.. have a nice.. uhm bath.."

"I will. Bye!"

"…Bye.."

Click.

---

Chelsea _did_ have a very nice bath. She used some bath salts and very foamy body wash called "Spring Rain" and she just relaxed until the water was too cool to bear any longer. It was certainly bed time when she got out of the bath so she crept downstairs and nuked a hot pocket and then went up and got ready for bed. She did not have any trouble falling asleep because her muscles were so relaxed from the bath.

---

"Ah!" Chelsea exclaimed, springing up into a sitting position on her bed. It was completely dark in her room. She looked over at the clock and saw that it was 2:00am. She turned on her lamp so that she could see if there were any monsters in her room; one of those things that some people just do not grow out of. She had had a nightmare in which things were crashing down all around her and making horrible noises that hurt her ears. Suddenly wide awake from the adrenalin coursing through her body and slightly shaken from the strange dream she reached over and grabbed her cell.

I wonder if he can get his office calls in his bedroom, she thought, and without applying any further logic to the situation, like perhaps the fact that people do not usually take kindly to being woken up in the middle of the night, she pressed the call button.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hmmm?" He answered sleepily.

"Oh.. I didn't mean to wake you, I'm sorry."

"Yes you did or you wouldnt've called so late or early, or …whatever."

"Sorry, I'll let you go back to sleep.."

"NO!.. wait.. its okay.. is something the matter?"

"I just had a bit of a nightmare is all. Now I'm wide awake. I should've known better than to just call and wake you up but I just did it before I actually thought about what I was doing."

"S'ok. I'm not mad atcha. So what was this scary dream about?"

Just as Chelsea began to open her mouth to respond she actually _did_ hear a crash. And it came from the hallway!

"Oh god.."

"What's wrong?" Willy was also wide awake now.

"I think my dad, or well actually I _hope_ its just him, is trashing the house.. I hear things breaking.."

"You should lock your door."

"It doesn't _have_ a lock."

"Oh.."

Crash.

"Eek.. its right outside my door!"

"Hide!"

"I…"

"Whys your lightson?!" Boomed her father's voice in a slur from just outside of her room.

"Who was that?" Willy asked, sounding frightened.

"My..father.. he's.." Chelsea trailed off as he burst through her door. Willy remained silent trying to hear what was going on.

"Your," he swayed and looked as though he were trying to bring her into better focus. "Youronthe phone? Whos it? S'that _boy_?" He said as he approached her bed. She was so frightened because she had never seen him looking or acting quite like this, that she dropped her cell phone and it slid off of the side of the bed and onto the floor. He looked absolutely deranged. The small crack of her cell hitting the hardwood floor drew his attention to it. He stumbled forward and fell to his knees beside the bed and grabbed the phone up off the floor.

"You want to toussch sher?" He growled into the phone.

Willy was absolutely silent, fear gripping him like a hungry constrictor would a mouse. Meanwhile, Chelsea was shrinking away from the side of the bed that her father was next to.

"You sthink that you have the rigsth to toush my daughter!" He got up and lunged forward across the bed, grabbing Chelsea's night shirt and yanking her over to him. She let out a high shriek.

"CHELSEA!" Willy cried but his plea was only heard by her raging father.

"Thast right… Chelsheas.. and no ones sgunna be tousching my Chelshha but me!" and with that he threw the phone across the room. It hit the wall and landed on the floor with a crash causing it to close thus canceling the call.

Willy had heard enough. He leapt from his bed, retrieved his multi purpose wrist watch from his dresser and pressed the emergency alert button. This meant that right now in Charlie's room _his_ matching multi purpose wrist watch was emitting a piercing noise alerting him to the fact that Willy needed him as soon as possible. Willy slipped on his shoes and coat, grabbed his cane and a fresh pair of gloves, and totally disregarded his hat as he rushed out the door. He was in the elevator and at the Chocolate room before Charlie had even left his house.

"What's happened?" Charlie asked, taking in Willy's disheveled appearance and becoming more and more worried by the second. He had never even _known_ that Willy slept in silk pajamas.

"She's in trouble, we have to help her!" Willy said franticly.

"Who?"

"My friend, the one I told you about… she's being hurt.." Willy had to actually use his cane because he was swaying dangerously.

"Do you even know where she's at?" Charlie knew that being badgered for details was obviously not what his mentor needed right at the moment, but he could not help if they did not even know where they were going.

"No! Oh my…" Willy raised a gloved hand and covered his eyes.

"Um… do you know anything about her.. anything that might give us any clues?"

"No! Well.. I mean.. I don't know! I only know that she lives near the factory.. no wait.. _everyone_ can see the factory from their house. She's an artist! She draws the factory.. her name is Chelsea and her dad is an alcoholic evil evil man who is doing things to her right now and we have to save her!" Willy finished with a cry. He looked as though he were torn between spontaneously exploding and passing out.

Charlie could not believe what he had just heard.

"Oh my god…Chelsea?! Come ON!" He shouted and with that he grabbed Willy by his arm and yanked him back to the elevator.

Willy was too distraught to even realize that he was actually being touched.

"You-u kn-know her?" He asked, his voice shaking.

"Yes."

"You are the one she gave her phone number too?" Willy looked shocked.

"Yes. And let me guess, you are the one who was on the phone with her as she was walking?"

"Yeah…Oh gosh Charlie…" Willy put his hand back over his eyes.

After the elevator was up and on its way Charlie wanted to make more sense out of the situation. "What did you mean when you said she's being hurt?"

"Its her father.."

"Bastard." Charlie spat.

Willy nodded and continued. "She had a bad dream and so she called me and we were just talking and then he came in.. into her room and started yelling ..I think he thought it was you on the phone with her.. then he ..uhhh.. he grabbed the phone and screamed at me, said I wanted to touch her.. and .. oh gosh.." and with that Willy slid down the wall of the elevator and pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, his cane forgotten and rolling about the floor. "What if he's… what'll… if he hurts her.." Willy was too hysterical to finish his sentences. Charlie bent down and put an arm around his mentor.

If he does hurt her he had better not still be there, Charlie thought darkly.

---

When the elevator landed on the deserted and black street in front of her house the first thing that they noticed was that the front door was open and that a light in an upstairs room was on. Without speaking they both dashed to the house. Charlie entered first and took quick notice of the mess. But no one seemed to be there.

"Chelsea?" They both called in unison but no response came. So they ran up the stairs. The door was ajar leading into the room that they had noticed had a light on. A strak of golden light washed across the hall. Charlie cautiously approached the door and pushed it open. The room was totaled. Charlie glanced about and heard Willy gasp. Following Willy's pointing finger Charlie observed something smashed on the floor and next to it there was a small puddle of blood. "Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh…" Willy started repeating to himself. Then they heard a small moan from the far corner of the room on the other side of the bed. They both ran forward. What they found beyond the bed was a very dreadful sight. Lying on her side, her pajamas torn in places, with a gash on her lip, and a bump rising under a bruise that covered half of her face, as well as with numerous bruises and scratches on her arms, and her long hair tangled about her head, Chelsea looked like she was not doing well at all. She moaned again and Charlie bent down and pressed her in places to see if she had any obviously broken bones. She did not. His proddings caused her to startle and open her eyes.

"Wha..?" She began.

"Shh… its okay now… we're here.. you're alright, its safe," Charlie said in as soothing a voice as he could manage.

"We..?" She attempted to look around but Charlie stilled her head gently with his hand. He did not want her hurting herself any more than she already was.

"Yes, Willy and I."

"Willy?" She said, but Willy could not seem to get his throat to cooperate.

"Yes, he's right behind you. Look, we need to get you out of here, okay? I'm going to pick you up and carry you, alright?"

"Mmmm.." was all that she said before closing her eyes once again. Taking that as permission given, Charlie carefully slid his arms under her and lifted her off of the ground.

"Willy.. grab that backpack over there and fill it with whatever in here you think she might need or want, okay? I'm going to take her to the elevator."

Willy obeyed and found her cell phone and placed it in the bag. He also grabbed her sketch pad, and a photo album that was lying on her dresser. Not knowing what else to grab, he randomly selected some of her clothing and stuffed it all into the backpack until it was jammed full and then he slung it over his shoulder and hurried to catch up with Charlie. He shut the front door as he left.

When they got into the elevator Willy pushed the "home" button and watched as Charlie carefully sat her down and sat himself down next to her. Willy Wonka did not need to rely on a common hospital in emergencies. He had his own personal Oompa Loompa Doctor named Tim and various other ways of dealing with wounds. Chelsea was stirring more now, probably due to the chilly night air, and she opened her eyes just in time for the elevator to begin rising off of the ground. She let out a yelp and suddenly Charlie found himself with an occupant that was clinging to him for dear life. She looked about and made a very frightened noise and then buried her face into the crook of his neck. Charlie wrapped his arms around her back and held her tight. He glanced up at Willy to find him staring down at them with a peculiar look on his face. Willy picked up his rolling cane and gave it a squeeze and then looked outside the glass at the factory rapidly approaching.

---

When they got back to the factory and Charlie was once again carrying his blacked out friend, Willy called for some Oompa Loompas to prepare one of the guest rooms and then he ran off to fetch something, leaving Charlie standing in the elevator thanking the heavens that he worked out sometimes and that Chelsea was so very light.

When the Oompa Loompa's returned Charlie followed them to the guest room. He lay Chelsea down on the bed, the covers had already been pulled back, and then he covered her because she had been shivering. He had just sat down in the chair that the Oompa Loompas had placed next to the bed when Willy reappeared at his side.

"Make her eat this," Willy said, handing Charlie a candy of some sort.

Charlie read the label aloud, "Wonka-Vite (Ultra Strength)." He paused to look back up at Willy before saying, "what will this do to her?"

"It should heal her all up. Completely. Just hurry up and get her to eat it, okay?"

Charlie unwrapped the candy looking pill and then scooted closer to Chelsea. He gently gave her shoulder a little shake.

"Huhhh?" She startled awake.

"Eat this, okay? It'll make you feel loads better," Charlie stated, pressing the pill lightly against her lips. She did not give him a fight, simply let him feed it to her, chewing and swallowing obediently.

"Mmmm caramel.." she murmured as she drifted back out of consciousness. Both Charlie and Willy smiled at the remark.

Charlie turned to Willy. "I'll sit with her.. you go back to sleep."

"No, you carried her around.. _I'll_ sit with her," Willy insisted.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Alright. If anything… happens, press the emergency button again, okay?"

"Yes."

"I'll come back in a few hours."

"Okay."

Charlie gave Chelsea another worried glance and then left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. Willy scooted the chair very close to the bed and sat down on it. She was sound asleep by now, the pill's affects were immediate as one of the main aspects was that it had a very potent sleeping aid so that the taker would feel no pain and be well rested if need be. Willy took off his jacket and tossed it on the floor along with his cane and sat back to simply observe her for a while. She was pale but not too pale like himself. Her hair was a very deep auburn that looked as though it would shine very brightly in the sun, but appeared almost black in the dimmed lights of this room. He guessed her eyes were probably green or blue from the tiny splatter of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was so….. Willy shook his head, placed his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, and let out a sigh. At least she was safe now.

She made a little noise and some hair fell into her face. Reaching out without realizing what he was doing, Willy gently tucked the section of hair back behind her ear. His hand paused for a second; gloved fingertips touching the fading bruise on her cheek before he withdrew.

Oh _Chelsea, _he thought before resuming his quiet observations.


	9. Candy Man

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

Also, for future reference, Haphephobia is the fear of being touched.

---

Ch 9: Candy Man

As Chelsea began to regain consciousness she noticed three things. First, that she felt very, very _good_. Her whole body was relaxed and felt brand new. The second thing she noticed was that her sheets were really silky.. and she did not _own_ silk sheets. Opening her eyes she discovered the third thing: she was _not_ in her house and the boy from the park's face was mere inches from her own. Gasping quietly, she sat up and scooted away from him. He was sitting in a chair next to the bed with his arms folded on the bed and his head lying atop them. He was dozing. She looked about the room and covered her mouth with her hand to stifle what would have undoubtedly been a much less quiet gasp.

Oh _my._

It was like she was in a dream. This room was decorated more uniquely than any she had ever seen. The walls were each a different, bright color, the art on the walls was huge and beautiful. Each piece of furniture looked like a particular candy. The lamp was a giant candy cane, the dresser a big square caramel. She looked down at the bed which was fashioned as a giant Wonka bar. Even the covers looked like the wrapping paper, and the silky sheets that she had noticed almost immediately upon her awakening were silver and shiny just like the inside wrapping of a candy bar. Wow.

Wait.. _Wonka_?!

The memory of what had happened the previous night came flooding back to her so fast that she nearly sobbed from the sheer force of it. Oh god.. She remembered everything except how in the world she ended up here, of all places. The last thing she recalled was being thrown off of her bed like a rag doll. She sucked in a sharp breath when she thought about her father. It was silly and she knew it was, but the immediate worry that sprang to the forefront of her mind was that he would be so angry that she was not at home. That he did not know where she was. She shook her head.

Why should I be worried about what he thinks any more?

She had spent her childhood silently wondering why her mother and father fought so often. It always seemed to be her mother's fault. But as she grew older she came to realize that it was simply her father's bad disposition. He was always a paranoid man; always the conspiracy theorist. He just seemed to be one of those types of people that could never fully trust those around him; and the type to demand obedience. Her rare friends and even Violet had often asked her why she stayed living with him all of these years. She surely could have looked after herself when she reached her middle to late teens. The truth was that she simple did not care. She was used to him, and more importantly he was her father. He was just there, a part of her life that ironically, in its constant state of unpredictably, seemed to never waver. The thing that no one else could see was the he did, in fact, care for her.

And most of the time he was just grumpy.

But this time he took his physical brutality far too far.

This time she was actually fearful of returning.

She shook her head again.

I need to stop worrying about what he thinks. His opinion can not matter any more. He has finally lost all of my respect, she told herself firmly. This finality seemed to snap her back to the here and now and she decided that the only way she was going to get any answers about what _else_ happened last night was to ask the boy at her side. Reaching over she gave the boy's arm a good little poke.

"Humuhh?" He said as he raised his head from his arms with a questioning look on his face. When he registered that she was staring at him the questioning look was replaced by one of shock and then quickly by one of happiness. "You're awake!"

"Uhh.. yeah..Um, can I ask where I _am? _I mean, I have a pretty good hunch but that doesn't quite explain why either you or I are here…" she raised an eyebrow at him.

He looked at her peculiarly for a second then asked, "you don't remember last night?"

"Well I remember.. everything… except being brought here." She cast her eyes back down to the colorful comforter.

"Oh. Well, your hunch was correct. You are in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. I am here because its where I live as well."

She looked startled by this news. Her eyes found their way once again onto his face.

He reached out his hand in introduction and said, "pleasure to finally _formally_ make your acquaintance Chelsea, my name is Charlie Bucket."

She grasped his hand and shook it slowly.

"Why don't you tell me what happened to you last night," he prompted.

"Well, my dad.. he.. he went insane I guess. He attacked me and then …" she got quiet and looked down at her hands.

"Did he …force you …to..?" Charlie was not sure if it was good idea or not to make a victim of rape remember their encounter the day after but he had to know for sure.

"No.. well he tried, I think... We just fought and wrestled a lot on my bed then when he ripped my shirt I panicked and grabbed a vase from my nightstand and smashed it over his head and then I kicked him off of the bed. He.. lay on the floor for a while and I thought that maybe I had killed him but then he got back up and grabbed me and threw me off of the bed. I think I hit the wall and that's all I really remember." She did not sound too uncomfortable reliving her story. Charlie was very, very thankful that she had not been…forced.

"So what happened after that?" She asked, meeting his gaze again.

"Well, Willy had been on the phone with you and heard you struggling so he called for me and when I realized that he was talking about you and that I knew where you lived we rushed to help you. When we got to your house the front door was hanging open, I guess your father fled because he was nowhere in sight. We went up to your room, it was the only one with any lights on, and found you. You… you were pretty banged up. We brought you back here and Willy had me give you an ultra strength Wonka-Vite and you've slept for about," he glanced at his watch, "17 hours straight. We've been taking shifts watching over you."

"Willy… has been _watching_ me?" This fact made her uncomfortable but she could not pinpoint exactly why. It was not so creepy that he had helped her and had been watching her… it was more.. unfair, that he got to watch her when she had never even really _seen_ him.

"Oh yeah, he's been really worried. He won't sleep or work or anything. He just leaves when I relieve him and I think he just paces around the factory…"

"Oh. I'm.. I'm really so sorry… I didn't mean for any of this.. I … you guys shouldn't have.. I mean…" she trailed off uncertainly.

"Chelsea, we are both really glad that you woke Willy up and that we were able to help you. If you had stayed.. I don't even want to think about what might have happened. Your father.. he could have returned.. and .. Look, no one is angry with you. We're both just happy you are alright now, okay?" He gave her a stern and yet glad look as if trying to force his point with his gaze.

"Um, alright. Th-thank you. I _am_ glad you guys could help. You know, I'd really like to meet Willy but.." she had just remembered that she must look something awful. She leapt up, held shut the long rip in her shirt that exposed her entire stomach, and walked over to the mirror above the caramel dresser. The sight that met her was astonishing. She looked completely fine. Not a scratch or bruise anywhere. Her hair was a tangled mess and her clothing was ruined but she looked… _great_! "Wow," she said aloud.

"Yeah, that pill worked wonders. It's a miracle pill I swear. If you'd of seen yourself before you took it.. yeah.. wow pretty much sums it up," Charlie's reflection smiled at her in the mirror. "Willy grabbed some of your clothing.. hopefully enough for you to actually put something together. Why don't you go take a shower? You'll feel even better and then we can go have some food if you're up to it."

"Alright. Where are my clothes?"

"In your backpack, over there," he said, pointing to the floor next to what was presumably the bathroom door where her backpack lay.

She grabbed her backpack, muttered a quick "thanks" and rushed into the bathroom.

_Wow._

It did occur to her that she was thinking the term wow a rather lot today, but the word was definitely warranted.

Exquisite. Grand… she wanted to squeal in pleasure. The bathroom was all marble and shiny and.. just wow. It was easily the size of her kitchen and living room combined.

She almost could not bring herself to finish up after she had already been in the shower for more than thirty minutes and the bathroom for probably well over an hour. She put on new underclothes and thanked her lucky stars that Willy had selected at least _some_ decent clothing. She slipped on a pretty little orange sundress with blue designs covering it and then took the comb that was provided for guests to her hair. The wonderful conditioner that was in the shower made her hair comb out more easily than it ever had previously. Her hair was straight for the most part but had a bit of a wave toward the bottom and thus the bottom always tangled rather effortlessly. When she was satisfied with her appearance, after having used all of the toiletries provided, she stepped out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam. Charlie was still sitting in the chair by the bed, looking tired but not annoyed that she had taken so long. His face lit up when he noticed that she was back. It also reddened a bit when he took in the fact that her sundress only fell to about three inches above her knees. She blushed too, smiled, and then realized that she did not have any shoes to wear.

Charlie noticed her look down at her feet and then around the room. "What size do you wear? My mom has loads of sandals that would match that dress."

"I wear an eight."

"Hey! That's perfect.. I think she wears either seven and a half or an eight, either way that should work. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Alright.. thanks.."

With that Charlie dashed from the room leaving Chelsea to her own devices. Slightly overwhelmed from the whole situation, she made up the bed and then sat in the chair. Charlie was only gone a couple of minutes.

"Here!" He said as he approached her with the shoes. They were brown flat sandals with a couple of little crossing straps that came just above her ankles. She took them and slipped them on. They were perfect. She smiled up at Charlie, who held out a hand to help her to her feet. "C'mon, I told Willy you were awake so he said he'd have the Oompa Loompas get ready to prepare us all some food in his private dinning room. Its so exciting.. in all of the years I've been here I've only seen his private area of the factory one time! He took me to his library once because I had a school research project," Charlie was clearly eager. Chelsea found that eager could not accurately describe what she was feeling. She did not even stop to ask if the Oompa Loompas were the midget workers that Violet had mentioned because butterflies were rapidly filling her stomach … she was about to meet The Great Willy Wonka.

---

Charlie had taken the lead and she followed close behind through a very curvy stretch of corridors. It took them fifteen minutes to even get to what Charlie said was Willy's private living portion of the factory. They just needed to find the door labeled "Dining Area." Apparently every door was labeled inside the factory. Maybe Willy Wonka was very forgetful?

When they found the correct room, Charlie knocked and then looked over at Chelsea. His face fell a bit. She looked frightened.

"Are you alright?" Charlie asked, reaching out and lightly squeezing her forearm to get her attention. At that moment the door opened and there stood the amazing Chocolatier himself. Willy looked down at where Charlie was touching Chelsea and then looked back up at them and Charlie dropped his hand. Turning his gaze then to Chelsea alone, Willy noticed that she was quite obviously in shock. He gave her a small and uncertain smile.

Chelsea was stuck. Her body would not move and it seemed her mind would not put any sentences together so that she could even say something appropriate. All her mind wanted to do was direct her eyes up and down and back up Willy's body and take in his whole, intriguing, appearance. He was very tall, at least six or seven inches taller than both herself and Charlie. He was dressed in a very soft looking maroon jacket, wearing a black top hat, black pants, and an almost black sweatshirt vest revealing the high neck of some sort of fancy design covered undershirt. He also had a golden "W" brooch clasped on the neck of the undershirt. He was a quite a sight; quite an appealing sight.

Both Charlie and Willy began to get increasingly uncomfortable with Chelsea's blatant staring for very different reasons. Finally, Willy chose to break the silence.

His voice came out in a very high squeak as he exclaimed, "g-good morning Starshine!" nervously. It seemed to be enough to snap Chelsea out of her stupor though. She gave a small curtsey that she did not realize she still remembered how to produce, reached her arm out for him to shake her hand, and said, "It's good to finally _see_ you W…Mr. Wonka." She was not sure if she was allowed to refer to him by his first name when in his presence. Her hand hung in the air for a few seconds.

Charlie was about to tell her that Willy had Haphephobia and that she might as well just lower her hand when Willy did something that left all three of them quite surprised. As she started to lower her hand he quickly reached out and captured it in one of his own gloved hands and brought it to his lips. He brushed her knuckles very lightly with a kiss and then released her hand, or more accurately flung it away, in shock at his own boldness. Or because he might have contracted some sort of germs. He quickly forced his grimace into a smile once again.

Chelsea brought her hand to her chest as though she were out of breath. Slightly confused, she blushed crimson and lowered her eyes.

Willy fidgeted with his cane, stepped from foot to foot nervously, and tried to will away the color rapidly gathering on _his_ cheeks.

And Charlie had his mouth hanging open and was staring incredulously at one and then the other of his companions. Finally he cleared his throat and said, "Uhm, …hungry?"

Chelsea brought her eyes back up and met Charlie's gaze nodding in the affirmative.

Willy exclaimed, "yeah lets eat!" and then turned to lead the way into the dining room.

One would have had to have been touching him to notice that he was shaking ever so slightly.

---

Like all of the other rooms that Chelsea had been fortunate enough to see in the factory thus far, the dining room was remarkable. It was easily large enough to fit a few hundred people but was also comfortable and decorated as to not draw too much attention to its size. It was colorful but not as much so as the guest room. They followed Willy to a small table that appeared recently constructed for this very occasion. It was next to an immense window that overlooked what seemed to be an enormous courtyard.

"I didn't know you had any windows in the factory Willy, aside from the few in the very front that is," Charlie said.

"There is still so much I have yet to show and tell you," he replied to Charlie. Glancing at Chelsea and then out the window he continued. "This looks into the courtyard. Its like a giant greenhouse. Look up at the top out there," and he pointed out the window and up toward the sky. Charlie and Chelsea obeyed and looked up. "I had to cover the top with glass so that no one could sneak in by helicopter or hot air balloon or something, heh. I don't like people being able to look into the factory but its okay if they see into windows like this because it just leads.. well in here. Yeah."

"Cool," said Charlie.

"Its gorgeous," commented Chelsea as she stared out of the window, taking in the many beautiful flowers. She was raised onto the balls of her feet so that she could maybe get a better view. Willy's eyes found their way back onto her when she spoke. They also found their way over her hair, down the curve of her back and onto her calves and then back up to her face. He shook his head slightly as if to gather himself and then smiled and gestured for them to be seated. Charlie quickly pulled out Chelsea's chair for her and she smiled and nodded at him in thanks. When Charlie sat himself down he glanced at Willy who was staring at him oddly again. Charlie raised his eyebrows a fraction but Willy simply looked away.

Chelsea chose this time to make a very peculiar noise somewhere between "oh" and "what" that sounded a lot like, "Ohawat." Both men looked at her curiously. She was looking down at something at her side. Willy giggled and Charlie smiled knowingly. An Oompa Loompa.

"He just wants to know what you'd like to eat. Point to whatever you want on the menu he's holding," Willy said, grinning.

Chelsea decided to not get into the conversation of exactly what _he_ was just yet, partly because she was famished. "Oh, um.." she bent lower to read the menu, unknowingly giving Charlie quite the view down the front of her dress. Charlie stared a bit, trying to look guiltless until suddenly exclaiming, "ow!"

"Are you okay Charlie?" Chelsea asked, concerned.

Charlie smiled at her and said yes and then glared at Willy across the table. Willy, feigning innocence, brought his cane out from under the table where he had just used it to whack Charlie in the shin, and leaned it against the wall.

The meal passed quietly as none of them knew what to say and all of them were rather hungry. Once satiated, Charlie cleared his throat.

"Um, Chelsea.." he began.

"Yes?" She wiped her mouth with her napkin and then sat it down and turned her full attention to him.

"I .. I don't think that you should go back to your father's house." There, he said it.

"Oh. Well.. I ..I have no where else _to_ go Charlie," she looked down, causing some of her hair to fall and cover her face. She looked very sad.

"You are welcome to stay here in the factory for as long as you want Chelsea," Willy said, giving her what he thought was a reassuring look but only came off as him staring and smiling in a manic sort of way.

"You called me Chelsea," she stated bluntly.

Willy blushed a little and glanced at Charlie and then back at her. "Yeah, _so_?"

She smiled prettily at him. "I _knew_ I'd like it when you'd say my name."

Willy's eyes widened, not expecting that type of response, and he fidgeted nervously with his utensils on top of the table. After a few moments of this he removed his hands from the table top and leaned in slightly to say, "so.. will you stay here in the factory?"

Chelsea's smile faltered. "Oh Willy I don't know. I couldn't possibly impose on you like that."

Willy smiled because she had said his first name and then frowned again because she thought that she was imposing on him. Waggling a finger authoritatively in her direction he said, "uh you couldn't possibly impose on _me_ even if you wanted to and tried really, really hard, little lady! The factory is so big and there are so many open rooms that you could have your pick of any one of them. And I _am_ a billionaire you know. Its not like it would be any trouble at all. So you can stay here as long as you need or want, kay?"

"…Alright, if you're sure.."

"I must insist," Willy said matter-of-factly, nodding as if the conversation were over.

Chelsea shrugged and then smiled at Willy and then at Charlie. "Okay then, I'll stay."

Both boys broke out in enormous grins.

Suddenly struck with an idea, Willy scooted his chair out and stood up to his full height. Looking down at Charlie and Chelsea he said, "now come, come dear children, for there is a factory that awaits your amazed ooohs and ahhhs."

"You're going to give me a tour?" Chelsea looked delighted.

"Naturellement mon joli," Willy replied.

Neither of them had the faintest idea what he had said. Chelsea had been tutored in French when she was a child but that was long ago.

When Chelsea showed no sign of having understood him he said instead, "come and I shall show you _my_ Wonderland."

Chelsea smiled and stood up. Willy held out his arm and she hesitantly linked hers through it at the crook. They led the way out of the room. Charlie was not far behind but feeling just a little out of place. He was also wondering what exactly Willywas playing at suddenly being all touchy-feely.


	10. True Color

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 10: True Color

When they stopped in front of a certain door Willy straightened his arm out which made Chelsea lower hers back to her side. He reached up and pressed a button. Chelsea recognized that it was an elevator calling button but it did not have an up arrow or a down arrow like the ones that she was used to. It had this funny little picture of a dot with dozens of arrows sprouting out of it in every direction.

When the button lit up and gave the ding to indicate the elevator had arrived, the door opened to reveal another glass door. The glass door opened and Willy stepped to the side and gestured for her and Charlie to precede him inside. Chelsea looked around and was surprised by the number of buttons indicating different rooms spread out all over the walls of the elevator. She bent to read some of the names. When Willy got in he was forced to stand between a wall and Charlie, as Chelsea was examining the opposite wall.

"So… do you think we should show her the Chocolate room first?" Willy asked Charlie excitedly. Charlie nodded enthusiastically.

Willy turned to Chelsea and said in a voice that clearly spoke of a person eager for someone to open a gift, "press this button" and he lifted his cane to point at it.

She smiled and pressed the indicated button.

Then she promptly began screaming.

The elevator had taken off going _left_ at top speed. She flew with it and slammed hard into Charlie's chest. He had been turned slightly toward her. He wrapped his arms around her back to steady her. They gave the every outward appearance of being a happily hugging couple, aside from all of the screaming that is. She buried her face in his neck much in the same manner as she had last night, although she did not remember that. Charlie and Willy did. Charlie lowered his head and spoke quietly in her ear.

"Shh.. Chelsea.. its alright. I've got you. You are safe as long as I've got you, okay?"

She made a little scared noise and Charlie looked to Willy for help. He found Willy giving him that same odd look that he had taken to doing recently. When Willy snapped out of it he came over to them and bent down slightly to whisper into Chelsea's ear that was the farthest from Charlie's face.

"Do you see us being big ol' babies little missy?" He said, somewhat teasing and somewhat actually thinking she was overreacting. When she turned her head a fraction to look at him he saw the very real fear in her eyes. A small but sharp pang of guilt hit him. He reached over and hit the stop button which would make the elevator stop at the next available room. It came to a sudden stop causing all three of them to smash into the side wall. When the door opened Chelsea sprang from Charlie's arms and rushed out. Willy was not far behind her. She walked a few feet from the elevator and stopped.

Willy stepped around her so that he was right in front of her and looked down at her face.

"You should have warned me.." she said quietly. She looked quite shaken up.

Willy felt really bad but he was not sure why. Usually the reason he _did not_ warn people about the uniqueness of his elevator was because it was more fun when they found out the hard way. She definitely did not look like she was having fun though.

"I… I'm really sorry," he said looking away from her and gripping his cane tightly.

She glanced up at him and noticed how unhappy he had become and decided that his apology was sincere enough.

"No, its alright Willy… You should have warned me but I shouldn't have been such a big baby like you said. I mean it was _only_ the scariest elevator on the entire planet." She smiled although she was not really joking.

Willy looked back at her and noticed her smile. He smiled in return.

"Do you forgive me?"

She bit her lip and looked about the hallway as though she were considering it. "Hmm.. I don't know…._should_ I?"

"Yes you should or I might refuse to show you the lickable wallpaper," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, cane still in hand and dangling.

"Lickable _wallpaper?_ You are such a lunatic!" She teased, laughing.

"Takes one to know one honey bun," he smirked playfully at her.

Charlie chose this time to remind them that he was still there by clearing his throat. "Are we going to _actually_ show her anything or not?" He said, clearly agitated.

"Yessiree!" Exclaimed Willy who then grabbed her shoulder and whirled her around, pushing her back towards the elevator. He was obviously thinking that she would give it another go willingly. He was mistaken. She planted her feet firmly on the ground and came to an abrupt stop. He slammed into her back and then moved around to the front of her again. "What's with all the _stopping_?" he parted his hands in a questioning gesture.

"You can't be serious.. I don't wanna go back on that _thing_!" She cried stubbornly.

"It won't be as scary this time, it never is after the first time.." he insisted.

"Willy…" she looked down.

He tipped her chin up with a finger and said in a low voice, "I promise I won't let anything happen to you Chelsea."

Willy's close proximity to her face made it possible for her to notice things about him that she previously had not. His own face was mere inches from her own and he was looking at her expectantly.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, leaning even closer to his face.

He swallowed nervously and tried to back away but she reached behind him and put her hand on the back of his neck, tugging and bringing his face very close to hers once again.

"Your eyes are absolutely breath taking…" she whispered. "Why, they're lavender!" Then, noticing how extremely uncomfortable he looked she released him. He pulled his face away from hers until he was again at a comfortable distance.

"Um.. yeah…" he said lamely.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.. but.. _wow_…" she gave him a dreamy look.

Gulping again he turned and said, "come on, it'll be fun this time, kay? Then when we get off in the Chocolate room, which isn't that far, we can find _other_ means of transportation." He gave Charlie a wink. Charlie only nodded knowingly.

"Oh all right…" she approached the elevator with hesitation. Willy and Charlie entered first and stood next to either wall so she took her place between them. When Willy pressed the Chocolate room button he warned, "here we go," just before the elevator sprang back to life.

She slammed into Willy's shoulder with a shriek. She was not exactly scared but she also was not going to find anything _fun_ about the ride unless she could hold still. Trying unsuccessfully to find her footing, she shouted, "if one of you _gentlemen_ would be so kind and give me a hand or SOMETHING!" She was trying to stay still because every time she got flung this way and that she was in danger of having her dress fly up and that would be very embarrassing.

Just as Charlie was lifting his arm to place it over her shoulder, Willy took her hand in his. Charlie noticed this and lowered his arm back to his side. She was not completely still but she looked over at Willy gratefully. She had begun to realize that he was uncomfortable with contact so offering her his hand meant a lot. He then handed her his cane with a crooked smile.

"Oh _thanks_," she said but took the cane and was amazed. The combination of his sturdy arm holding her hand and his cane as an extra leg worked wonders. Now she looked outside of the elevator for once. The factory was flying by so fast that she swore it must go on forever. It was truly amazing.

When he knew that the elevator was about to come to a stop, Willy released her hand and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her firmly against his side. She was about to quirk an eyebrow at him when the elevator suddenly came to a complete stop. Oh. He quickly released her and stepped away. She smiled at him but he just turned around and hastily led the way to the Chocolate room.

When he came to the designated door he turned and said, "I want you to know that I am putting a lot of trust in you by showing you the secrets of my factory."

Chelsea smiled at him affectionately.

Willy seemed to be gathering his courage as he breathed in and said, "are you ready to see my Wonderland, Alice?"

Chelsea nodded eagerly.

Willy pushed open the door and Chelsea nearly felt the need to kneel down and cry.

No wonder it was so gray in the town, all of the brightest and most beautiful colors were _here_ in this very room.

Willy and Charlie were watching her expression as they entered the huge candy filled space. They varied from shock to amazement to pure happiness all seemingly at the same time. Then it all changed, and she _did_ begin to cry.

"Chelsea..?" Charlie asked uncertainly.

When Willy noticed the tears falling down her cheeks he was at her side immediately. She was not crying a whole lot, but it was cause enough for worry. He whipped out a handkerchief and gently wiped away her tears. As he did this he asked quietly, "Why are you crying? Are you in pain?"

"No.." she said, sniffing and pulling her face away from his hands. "I'm sorry. It..this place.. its so …." She tore her eyes from the room and brought them to his. Then, leaning forward she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close for a brief yet strong hug. He stiffened but did not push her away. When she released him he looked down at her curiously.

"What was that for?"

"Because you have given me the most wonderful…"

"I have?" Willy looked amazed.

"Yes. By letting me see all of this." She gestured about the room. "This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. All of the colors…" she trailed off and sniffled a bit, but she was still smiling.

Willy did not know what to say to all of _that_ so he opted for saying nothing at all.

Charlie cut in jokingly, "I didn't quite react the same way but I know what you mean Chelsea."

She smiled at him and then looked back at Willy. "What is all of this? It smells so yummy in here!"

"This is the Chocolate Room. It smells so yummy because it is in fact very yummy." Willy replied, nodding his head.

"You mean..?" her smile widened considerably.

"Yup. Everything in here is eatable. Even _I_ am. But that's called… _what_?" He cut off his speech due to her outburst of giggles.

"He said that when he was giving us Golden Ticket finders our tour as well.. now you've gone and thrown him off so he'll be stuck on repeat the whole time! He's got it all memorized." Charlie said playfully, pointing to his head for emphasis.

"No its just.." she laughed some more, and then she was struck with an idea. "Willy?"

"Uh yeah?" He still looked somewhat put out by their interruption of his speech.

"I _bet_ you _are _eatable.." she purred.

He did not get it.

And then he still did not get it.

Only when he noticed that Charlie's face had turned red did he think he _got_ it.

He backed away from her slightly, holding up a hand as if to ward her off.

"Oh you big dork, I was only teasing you." She said, striding up to him and batting him lightly on the arm. "Now, I can eat this room? I mean.. I can just go pick a blade of grass or something and actually eat it?"

"..Ye-yes.." Willy stuttered. He was still a bit flabbergasted from her previous comment.

"Sweet," she remarked to herself.

"Literally," said Charlie. "Come on, lets go find something to snack on!" And with that he grabbed her wrist and led her out into the candy meadow. Willy followed slowly behind.

This girl is making me completely insane, he thought. As he was catching up to Chelsea and Charlie, Willy was accosted by a group of Oompa Loompas that needed his assistance with something, so he went off to help them. When he returned he looked all over for his companions. He finally found them sitting together on the walkway over the chocolate river. Charlie was braiding candy flowers into Chelsea's hair. This sight made Willy get that odd feeling he had been getting every time he saw Charlie touch Chelsea.

It seemed like a good idea to interrupt them, so he did.

Looking about he spotted a caramel cat-tail, picked it, and headed up the slope to where they sat. They had not noticed him approach. Only after he had plopped down on the other side of Chelsea did they realize he was back. He smiled over at her and she returned the sentiment. Then he offered her the caramel cat-tail. She took it and brought it to her nose.

"Is this caramel Willy?"

"Indeedy." He was not an idiot; he had caught on to the fact that she was partial to caramel.

"Lovely!" She exclaimed and then stuck out her tongue for a quick lick. "Mmmm…" she closed her eyes and leaned over toward Willy, laying her head lightly against his shoulder. By doing so her hair fell from Charlie's hands making him take notice that she had moved. He frowned.

"I really love this place," she said, sighing contentedly.

Willy relaxed a little and looked over at the top of her head. "Your hair is really pretty," he said before he knew what words were coming out of his mouth.

She sat back up and turned to give him a smile. "Why thank you."

"Yeah it _is_," said Charlie. He picked up her hair and resumed his braiding. This time Willy actually got angry. He did not really understand _why_ he was angry but he knew that he was and that he wanted Charlie to stop what he was doing immediately. Standing up, Willy held out a hand to help Chelsea to her feet. She looked at him curiously but tossed her hair successfully sending the message to stop to Charlie, who in turn dropped the braid. She took Willy's proffered hand and he effortlessly pulled her to her feet.

"Come my caramel loving lady. I have another surprise for you," he said. He released her hand and led the way down the path and over to the river's chocolatey bank. Only Charlie seemed to notice the fact that Willy had just called her _his_ caramel loving lady. Irritated, Charlie moped along behind.

Chelsea uttered an excited "oh!" when the boat came into view. Willy stepped on board then grabbed her hand to help her in. He left Charlie on his own. Her having preceded Willy to the seats should have meant that she would be seated between Willy and the edge of the boat but she sat on the center of the very back seat so Willy sat on her left and Charlie took up the right. When she bent to adjust her sandal Willy and Charlie gave each other sharp looks over her back. They both seemed to be rather agitated with each other.

They did not know it yet, as the boat approached the dark tunnel ahead, but they were about to become even _more_ agitated.


	11. Fluffy Darkness

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 11: Fluffy Darkness

The approach to the tunnel seemed to be taking an eternity for Willy and Charlie. Chelsea had a huge smile and was looking this way and that excitedly. She was starting to get caught up in all the wonders of the factory. How could she have ever thought it evil?

Willy glanced over at her and noticed that she was, like Charlie used to be, pretty starved looking, so, just as he had done with Charlie on that day that seemed so long ago, he scooped the on board dipper into the chocolate river and held it up to Chelsea's face.

Looking curiously at the dipper and then at Willy she said, "I can just drink some out of this?"

"Yeah, otherwise I wouldn't be offering it you, you silly goose," and he put it to her lips and tipped it slightly. She took a small sip.

"Mmm…your chocolate is _so_ mmm goooooood," she said, closing her eyes and savoring the flavor. Willy placed the dipper into the "to clean" bucket and then returned his gaze to her face. He noticed she had just a bit of chocolate on her lower lip. For some reason this observation made him lick his own lip. Shaking his head slightly he once again whipped out his handkerchief and reached over to swipe off the chocolate. Chelsea blushed and then smiled. "Thanks."

"Not a problem at all little miss messy," he teased.

Finally they had entered the tunnel. Willy thought about it and then decided that it would be more fun to leave it dark for a bit. After all it was not _that_ dark. After a couple of minutes Chelsea noticed that she was kind of cramped sitting between these two skinny guys. Odd. They must have inched closer while she was not paying attention.

The boat started to go faster, and then faster, and then there was a very sudden drop.

"Eeee!" she exclaimed, reaching out to grab whatever was handy to make her feel less like she was going to fly overboard. She ended up linking arms with Charlie and grasping Willy's knee in a death grip. Neither of them really seemed to mind all that much.

A minute later Chelsea felt rather than saw a latex clad hand slide over the top of her own. This contact brought her attention to the fact that she might actually be causing him a small amount of pain so she made to remove her hand from his knee. When she lifted it a bit, though, the latex covered hand curved its fingers so that they were intertwined with hers and gently applied pressure bringing her hand back down onto the knee, telling her that it was welcome to stay right where it was. Chelsea felt a shiver go down her spine and her cheeks flush. Being squished between two handsome men on a boat ride through the dark was not that bad at all. She quite liked it actually. She smiled to herself.

Willy, causing her to jump slightly, suddenly yelled, "Uhm, lights please," and on they turned. He, having noticed her reaction, leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "didn't mean to make you jump sugar clump." His breath tickled her neck as he spoke. He needed to stop doing that. She shivered again.

Her hair was flipping madly from the air rushing past as they flew down the river. One of the candy flowers came loose and fell out but Charlie caught it with his free hand and then offered her a bite. She shook her head no because she did not want to lose the taste of the chocolate just yet.

"You know, chocolate gives people the feeling of being in love," Willy said abruptly, glancing over at her. Chelsea felt her cheeks flush again.

"Fascinating," she said quietly. He quickly looked away.

"Stop!" he shouted to the Oompa Loompa oarsmen. They had apparently reached another room that he wanted to show Chelsea. She looked at the label above the door which said, "Inventing Room." She smiled.

"So is _this_ where the infamous Willy Wonka sometimes talks to himself while inventing new candies?" She untwined their fingers and turned her hand so that their palms were touching and gave his hand a little squeeze.

"I'll have you know, _madam,_ that I do not have a bad reputation… infamous indeed!" He looked away and raised his nose into the air proudly.

She giggled and brought their joined hands to her lap and untwined her other arm from Charlie's and placed her free hand on top of Willy's so that she was holding his hand between both of hers. She squeezed again and then shook his arm playfully. "You _know_ you talk to yourself, you are simply changing the subject you absurd magical man."

Then, as if having waited for someone to refer to him as magical for a very long time, Willy reached over to her ear, made a show of trying to pull something out of it, then pulled his hand back to reveal another candy flower but it was not one of the ones from her hair, it was a white rose with red tips. He handed it to her and she lifted the hand that was atop his to accept it. Perfect. That was one of her favorite types of rose. He really _was_ magical.

Having nothing else to say she settled for blushing and adding the rose to her braid. It was difficult to do one handed but she managed. She smiled at Willy and he stood, lifting her to her feet with the hand he still held. Carefully he helped her off of the boat. Charlie followed with a very sour look on his face. He was not enjoying this tour so far.

---

When they entered the inventing room, Chelsea said, "this place is wild," referring to all of the crazy things happening and all of the various noises. Willy nodded and tugged on her hand.

"Come on I wanna show yah some neat stuff!" He said happily. He led her over to a contraption that looked sort of like a jacuzzi and had Oompa Loompas swimming about in it after little ball like things.

"What is this?" she asked, looking into the little porthole on the side.

"This is the last step in the Everlasting Gobstopper's journey as its being created. Have you ever had one?" Charlie asserted from her other side.

She shook her head no and then Willy said, "you can suck on them and lick them but they'll never get any smaller. Its for children with very little allowance money."

"Um Willy.. I hate to point this out to you but…" Chelsea started.

"You'd think that people would only ever buy one and then the sales would stop, huh? I know! But that's the strange part. They never stop selling." Charlie interrupted.

"Mmhmm," Willy added. Then he tugged her hand and led her over to a big table with lots of different ingredients scattered about on it. "And _here_ Chelsea Bellsee, is where I sometimes talk to myself." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

She got a strange look on her face and then smiled at Willy and looked down.

"What?" He asked.

"My mother used to call me Chelsea Bellsee when I was a very little girl," she said with a sad smile.

"Oh. Um, is it okay…?" Willy was not really sure what to say.

"You can call me whatever you want to Candy Man, just so long as you don't call me by any first name but Chelsea."

"Okie dokie! Now, pick out some ingredients and have fun!" He swooped his arm over the table gesturing at all of the different ingredients.

"I'm um.. gonna need my hand back then.." she said tugging lightly on her hand.

"Oh. Right. My apologies," he said, blushing slightly. He untwined his fingers from hers and released her hand.

"No apologizing for hand holding you silly man," she said and then poked him on the nose. She walked around the table, deciding which ingredients she wanted to use. She selected some cinnamon, sugar, some butter, and a few other things. After pouring and mixing for a while she realized that this inviting stuff was a lot harder than it sounded. She also looked up and realized that both men had been watching her every move with obvious interest. She raised her eyebrows and then pushed all of her _progress_ over towards them. "Here, I give up, lets see the masters in action."

Charlie passed with a held up hand but Willy looked at the pile of goop with a gleam in his eye. He grabbed a few more ingredients and then mixed it all a bit. Grabbing a burner he heated it up a little. He put some purple food coloring into it and then took it over and handed it to an Oompa Loompa who ran it through one of the various strange machines in the room. Something dinged a few moments later and Willy grabbed up the end products, which were on a tray, and brought them over to Charlie and Chelsea. They looked at the tray curiously. They were little purple heart shaped gummies.

"Try one, if it came out the way I think it did I shall call them purple cinna-hearts," Willy said excitedly. They both reached up and took a candy. After plopping them into their mouths their faces lit up.

"Very good!" Charlie said after he had swallowed.

"Not bad for my first collaborative effort, eh?" Chelsea said.

"Not bad at all, mon peu coeur," said Willy, handing the tray back to the waiting Oompa Loompa. "Yah know what? I just thought of another place I'd _really_ like to show you! Come on!" Willy exclaimed and grabbed Chelsea's hand to drag her away. Charlie followed as always. When they got outside the room Willy stopped suddenly and turned to Chelsea. "Are …is it okay if we.. see the fastest way around the factory…" he was not quite sure how to ask her.

"You wanna take the elevator again, don't you?" Chelsea said wrinkling her nose. When Willy just looked at her hopefully she sighed. "Oh alright. It'll be fine." He smiled and led her along the corridor again.

Once inside the elevator Chelsea lifted Willy's hand and wrapped his arm over her shoulders. She then released his hand and wrapped her arm around his back. There, much better, no more flinging about.

Charlie looked at Willy to see if he could spot any discomfort, but Willy only looked smug. Lucky wanker, he thought.

When they got to their destination Charlie's face lit up. Now this _would_ be fun. They had arrived at the room with the Fizzy Lifting Drinks. Upon entering Willy immediately disentangled himself from Chelsea and poured three glasses. Turning he handed two of them to Charlie and Chelsea.

"Here, take a gulp. It'll be fun I promise!" He said eagerly.

Chelsea, deciding to just trust him, took a big swig. Then, almost immediately, she began to rise into the air. She dropped her glass with a shriek, it shattered, and then she crossed her legs and pressed her hands on the top of her legs, holding her dress flat. She glared down at the two boys and screamed, "Listen here _Wonka_… if you guys look up my dress I'll kill you both! You should've warned me!"

Reddening and looking down at their feet, the boys took quick drinks and sat their glasses down. Willy also took off his hat and laid down his cane. They soon rose into the air with Chelsea.

"S..sorry Chelsea. I ..I really hadn't thought about ..you know.. _that_.." Willy said lamely, looking anywhere but at her.

Charlie just laughed nervously.

Chelsea decided that the fact that she was currently _floating_ took precedence over the dress thing. "_How_ exactly are we floating?"

"Magic!" Willy exclaimed, happy that she had decided to drop the other subject.

"This is weird," she said looking uncomfortable.

"Uh, its not supposed to be _weird_ mon nuage, it is supposed to be _fun._" Willy said. He tilted his head downward to examine his watch, after a moments hesitation he pressed a button on it. A couple of Oompa Loompas entered below them and looked up for instructions. "Put on some music and those super coollights, kay?" Willy said to them. They nodded, crossed their arms, bowed, and left.

A few seconds later the song "Here In Your Arms" by the band "HelloGoodbye" started blasting and the lights dimmed, became multicolored, and strobe.

Wow, Willy's really been working on this place, Charlie thought, impressed.

Chelsea smiled, suddenly very happy, and Willy floated over to her by wagging his arms as though he were swimming. When he got to her he said, "Give me your hands." She obeyed. Willy started spinning them round and round somehow. Chelsea did not think she had ever experienced something quiet so fun. When he finally slowed down because she was looking a little tired of spinning, Chelsea gave him a yank and he found himself chest to chest with her. When they collided a small "Ohh!" escaped his lips and then he looked down into her eyes questioningly. She wrapped her arms around his back, pinning his arms to his sides, and gave him a quick but near bone breaking hug. She released her grip slightly and leaned her cheek on his chest. She could hear his heart beating rapidly. His chest felt very strong. She could tell that despite his seemingly frail frame he was a very strong man. Looks _could_ be deceiving.

"Thanks for this. I'll never forget floating here with you," she said quietly.

Willy closed his eyes against the new emotions rolling through his body. "Believe me, I won't be forgetting this either," he whispered into her hair. Their moment was cut short when they heard a door slam below, causing them to spring apart. They both looked down and then looking around the room realized that Charlie was no longer there. Oh. They must have not been able to hear him burping over the music, thought Willy. But he found that he was more happy than sad that his young apprentice had left. He looked at Chelsea with a small smile but found her looking very confused if not a little hurt. Willy pressed a button on his watch which must have told the Oompa Loompa's to turn off the music and lights because the music stopped and the lights returned to normal.

"How do we get down from here?" Chelsea asked.

"You have to burp a few times. I know, its weird, but.. well that's how," Willy was sad that she wanted to get down. She did not argue, just burped as quietly as she possibly could until she was back on the ground. He did the same and picked up his hat and cane, replacing his hat on his head.

"Why did Charlie rush off?" The hurt was evident in her voice. Willy merely shrugged, although he thought that he might have some idea of why. Suddenly, Willy's watch made a strange ringing sound. He pulled it to his lips and pressed a button.

"What?" He said into his watch.

"_Mom_ wants to know if you guys are coming to dinner. She wants to meet Chelsea," answered Charlie's voice.

"Uh, yeah.. right now?" Willy responded.

"Yep."

"Okay."

"Okay, see yah in a few."

Chelsea, having heard the conversation, smiled. Maybe Charlie had just gone to ask his mom if she could come to dinner.

"Well, lets boogie!" Willy said with obviously false cheer. Chelsea raised an eyebrow at him but followed him out of the room without comment.

---

When Willy knocked on the Bucket's door Charlie answered it with a bright smile for Chelsea and nothing for Willy. Upon entering, Charlie put his hand on the small of Chelsea's back and led her over to his family for introductions.

"Mom, Dad, Grandpas, Grandmas, this is Chelsea. She's going to be staying in the factory with us now!" He said enthusiastically. Chelsea blushed and curtsied because she could think of nothing else to say or do. They all smiled and said hello, and then went back about their business, which was cooking for Mrs. Bucket, setting the table for Mr. Bucket and Charlie, and playing cards for the grandparents. So Chelsea went over and sat on the couch with Willy.

"We've expanded their house a little. When we first brought it here it was just this tiny little shack," he said.

"You _brought_ their house here?" She asked, clearly astounded.

"Why are you always so amazed by what I say?"

"Because you keep saying things that amaze me!" She said, laughing.

"I always will!" He said, smirking at her.

Meanwhile, Charlie had gone to help his mother with the food. She noticed that he looked troubled.

"What's bothering you Charlie?" Mrs. Bucket said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Its just… well.. I really like Chelsea but .. I think Willy does too.." he said, looking down. It even sounded childish to him as he made this admission but he could not help the way that he felt.

Mrs. Bucket looked over at the couple on the couch. Chelsea had bent over to fix the strap on her sandal again, and Willy was jovially playing with her hair. He was arranging the flowers into a little bouquet at the end of her braid, with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Mrs. Bucket smiled to herself and turned to Charlie.

"Charlie honey, I want you to take a look at them." He did, but only for a second before returning his gaze to his mother. "You might like her but.. _think_ about it won't you. You're still really young, you meet new girls all of the time at school and when you're out and about the town running errands for Willy and I. All you have to do is look at Willy for a second to see that he is falling for her. This is probably the first time he's ever felt this way about someone. I mean he's always been so.. secretive and reclusive. Don't you think it would be wrong to ruin what could possibly be his only shot at love? I mean.. he's even _touching_ her!" She could not keep the astonishment out of her voice for that last bit. She watched as the battle waged in Charlie's mind. He raised his eyes back to hers and gave her a small smile.

"You're right mum. I feel sort of bad now that I think about it. Willy really deserves this chance. I won't stand in his way."

"Now that's the good boy I know! Go wash up and tell them that dinner is ready."

Charlie smiled and complied. He knew that his mother was right. She was always right. It hurt a little but he loved Willy like a big _eccentric_ brother, so he was resolved to do this for him. After all, Willy had already done so very much for him and his family.


	12. A Morning Gift

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 12: A Morning Gift

The next few weeks were a blast. Willy and Charlie took Chelsea to interesting rooms all over the factory. She was having the time of her life and quickly forgetting that there was a world outside of this beautiful and exciting place. Willy even had some Oompa Loompas, standing on very tall chairs, take Chelsea's measurements so that he could have some new clothes tailored for her. She was overjoyed. Charlie really thought she ought to be more worried than happy about that, due to Willy's crazy fashion tastes, but refrained from saying anything because he did not want to ruin her it for her.

When her clothing finally arrived early one morning, Willy brought it directly to her room. He knocked happily. When he received no response he invited himself in with the master key that he had. She might be sound asleep or something might have happened to her, so he was not about to just wait outside the door. There was no sign of her in the bedroom so he went over and laid the packages on the bed. He was just about to go and look for her, thinking maybe she had went to hang out with Charlie at his house, when he heard a door open. Turning around, he finally discovered what it felt like to be paralyzed by fear. He knew that he was going to be murdered when she looked over and saw him standing there. She, having just opened the bathroom door to let out some of the steam, was standing in front of the mirror brushing her hair in nothing but her under clothes. Willy knew darn well that he needed to look away or preferably slip out of the room while she was still unaware of his presence, but he was, after all, paralyzed. Fear might not have been the most _accurate_ word. Finally, after about twenty more seconds of combing, she did glance out of the bathroom door. Three things happened in quick succession; she shrieked, dropped the comb, and slammed the door shut. This event snapped Willy out of his trance. He ran over to the door.

"Chelsea, I.." he began, panic evident in his high-pitched voice.

"Willy! What the hell are you doing in here?!" She exclaimed, clearly angry.

He leaned against the door. "I brought you your new clothes…"

"So you thought you'd just barge right in the room and give them to me without even knocking first?"

"I knocked! You just didn't _hear_ me!"

"The SHOWER was still running! Why did you just come in?"

"Because … you might've been like out cold or …I don't know, hurt or something.."

"Well go sit down. I'll be out in a sec."

"…Okay.."

When she finally did come out she was wearing shorts and a tank top, move of her clothing that Willy had stuck in her backpack. She was bear footed and some of her hair was stuck to her neck because it was still very wet. It was also dripping everywhere. She slowly approached where he was seated stiffly on the chair.

"So why were you just standing there staring at me then? You could've told me you were in here when I first opened the door." She put her hands on her hips.

"…" Willy found himself a bit preoccupied with a drop of water that was currently traveling down her collarbone.

"_Willy!_" She whacked the front of his hat so that it fell to cover his eyes. He startled.

"S..sorry.." he mumbled, blushing as he removed his hat from his head entirely.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself you little pervert?" She was posed as a very irritated woman with her hands once again on her hips but her tone was playful.

"Only that you _really_ need to start drying your hair more thoroughly," he said, trying for a blank expression.

She whipped around in a circle so that her mass of wet hair hit him in the face, laughing merrily as she did so. It seemed that she just could not stay mad at the childish man before her. She emitted a little "eep" noise as he tossed his hat on the bed, grabbed her hips and yanked her down so that she was seated on his lap. That was about as far as he had thought that one out. She turned slightly and gave him a questioning yet happy look.

Feeling a little uncomfortable and a whole lot confused as was usual when in her presence, Willy said the first thing that came to his mind. "And what would you like for Christmas little girl?"

Chelsea got a funny look on her face which then changed into a mischievous one. She turned completely around and sat on his lap so that she was straddling it, leaned in until the tips of their noses were a hair's breadth apart and then she said, "maybe I want _you_ Candy Man." As she said the word 'you' she poked his nose with her own, giggled and leapt from his lap. She knew that Willy got flustered trying to deal with those types of comments but she also knew that it was very amusing to watch him try.

Oddly, perhaps because he was finally getting used to her flirty ways, Willy only smiled and said, "_careful_ what you wish for mon belle."

Chelsea blushed despite herself and cast around for something else to say. Noticing the packages on the bed she pointed at them. "So, these are mine?"

"Oui." He stood and came to stand beside her.

She dove right in. Opening each package she laid out every article of clothing on the bed. They were mostly dresses. She nearly died of shock. Her eyes began gathering moisture because never in her entire life would she have imagined herself being able to wear such beautiful things. She grabbed one of the dresses and ran to the bathroom. A minute later she returned. Willy quickly sat back down. He did not think he would have been able to remain standing for very much longer. He felt his mouth go dry.

She had chosen the tea-gown oriental hybrid style dress in light blue. The silky thing clung to the curves of her body but flowed down her legs and trailed along the floor a bit behind her. Her neck was entirely covered by the material accenting its slenderness. A large teardrop shaped opening on her chest revealed some of her throat down to her cleavage. The sleeves came tight down to her elbows and then flared out and dropped to about two inches below the tips of her fingers, slit up one side exposing her forearms. The edges of the sleeves, neck, teardrop, and bottom of the dress were lace of the exact auburn of her hair.

All of the other clothing was similarly extravagant but Willy was very glad he had thought to design it for her and have it made. Very, very, very, very glad.

She spun around slowly then gathered up the dress and curtsied. "What do you think Mi'lord?"

Willy opened his mouth but no sound came out. He closed it and then started over. Eventually he opted to stand and bow to her. In response she flung herself at him. He welcomed her into his arms and lifted her off of the ground to spin her around. One, two, three times they spun before he realized what he was doing and stopped to gently put her down. She did not remove her arms from around his neck. Leaning up slightly, she meant to kiss him on the cheek but instead grazed the corner of his mouth because he had turned his head at that exact moment. His face turned crimson to nearly match his jacket. And she released him to step back.

"Thank you Willy. This is the most beautiful clothing I think I've _ever_ seen. How will I ever repay you?" she said, her smile faltering a bit.

"You just did Chelsea," he replied referring to the kiss. He was still fighting away his blush. "Oh!" He said suddenly. "I've also got you some shoes! They're right out here." He ran over to the door and opened it to reveal a cart filled with almost every type of shoe a girl could want. He wheeled them over to her. She simply stood there with her hands over her mouth looking like she had died and that this was heaven. He bent and selected a pair. "Here. These would be perfect with that dress. Put them on and lets go show you off! The Buckets aren't gonna know what hit em."

She blushed prettily and accepted the shoes. They were a perfect fit. Everything about this place is perfect, she thought. Just as Willy crooked his arm for her to take something strange happened. Her cell phone rang. They both looked at it oddly and then she went to pick it up off of the nightstand and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Chelsea?" A raspy response.

"…..Father." Her face fell and voice turned cold. Willy paled. For the next couple of minutes Willy watched helplessly as Chelsea merely nodded her head and said "mmhmm" once in a while. When she finally hung up he was at her side in an instant.

"What happened?" He said. His voice was high, once again betraying his anxiety.

"He said he's been in the hospital this whole time. Woke up there. He told them that he'd been in a bar fight," her voice was hollow and monotone.

"He should be in jail," Willy said, growing angry.

"He also said that he was sorry and that he has been in rehab at the hospital. Thinks he's done with alcohol for good this time."

"_Riiiight_."

"And he wants me to come to the house so that we can talk."

"No way!" Willy shouted.

Her joy from the new clothes was evaporating at light speed and quite a bad mood as well as depression from the reminder of the outside world was taking her over. Chelsea did not exactly find Willy's concern touching. "No way? Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?" She yelled and began to shake.

Willy looked stung. "I.. you should never go near that man again!" He protested, voice cracking.

She was about to scream at him some more but her body had other ideas. The shaking increased to a dramatic level and then she fell to her knees. Willy came over and scooped her up to lay her across the portion of the bed not occupied by clothing. When she was settled she put her hands over her face for a second, was engulfed by a powerful sob, and turned away from him to curl into the fetal position. He sat on the bed next to her and smoothed her hair out of her face.

"Chelsea… I'm not.. I don't mean to sound like I'm ordering you around," he said in a quiet voice. "I just don't want you to get hurt again.. okay?"

She sniffed and then turned onto her back. Looking up at him she wiped the remaining tears from her eyes and reached over and took his hand in hers. He could feel that she was still trembling.

"I'm ..sorry for snapping at you," she said.

"No harm done pretty girl," he said, smiling down at her.

"I have to go talk to him. I need closure, I think. Or something." She said.

He gave her hand a squeeze and said, "Please allow Charlie and I to come as well, okay?"

"Are you guys going to be my body guards?" She said, smiling somewhat.

Unbidden, the image of her standing in the steamy bathroom in her knickers brushing her hair floated to mind at this question. Blushing again and shaking his head slightly, Willy finally responded, "Ye..Yep!" and then tried to look casual. Chelsea had some idea of what just happened and burst out laughing. Her emotions were quite obviously out of whack.

More in order to make her stop laughing at his expense than anything else he asked, "So.. when did you agree to go meet him?" At some point during this conversation her head had found its way onto his leg, which was bent and tucked under his other leg that was hanging off of the side of the bed. His free hand took up fiddling with her hair.

"Tomorrow."

"Oh. Okay." He said. Suddenly he sucked in a sharp breath. A thought had just occurred to him that caused the smile to disappear from his face, his hand to still in her hair, and his heartbeat to quicken.

What if she decided to stay with her father? Oh gods…

"What's wrong Willy?" She said, rising and scooting so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed next to him.

"N-nothing!" He squeaked hurriedly. He felt ill.

"You don't _look_ like nothing is the matter," and then it dawned on her that he might be worried that something bad would happen at the meeting with her father. She wrapped her arms around him for the second time that morning and brought his head down to rest under her chin. He closed his eyes and his arms snaked around her back of their own accord and clung to her. "Everything will be alright Willy.. it really will," she said into his hair.

"I hope so." Was all he said. They stayed in that position for a while longer than strictly necessary; neither wanting to let go.

"I feel safe when you're holding me," she said softly, not really wanting him to hear her but not really caring if he did. He had. His arms tightened around her. His only audible response was a heavy sigh that ruffled the lace around the teardrop on her chest.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.


	13. Lunch Special

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

For your benefit: If you want to know what some of the clothing I mention in this fic might look like visit my deviantart page, the url is located on my fanfictionnet profile. Also, as far as the random words in French; I just used a translator so its most likely not accurate. But if you do translate them it should pretty much tell you what I meant. And most importantly, I am picturing Chelsea looking KINDA like Julie Cooper from "The O.C.," only not so adult and with much longer hair. You can type that name into wikipedia or google and see some pics. Yeah.. sometimes having a face makes it better? shrugs

Proceed.

---

Ch 13: Lunch Special

With the prospect of having to face Chelsea's father tomorrow, Willy found himself in a very strange mood. Not so strange a mood for anyone else, but very strange for Willy Wonka. Instead of skipping about and humming while merrily twirling his cane around with a huge grin on his face, he was walking around rather slowly, either frowning or looking blank, and making no noise at all. This, coupled with his nervous fidgeting with anything he could reach, was making everyone around him begin to worry.

When Chelsea decided to put all of her new clothing into the closet, Willy solemnly agreed to help her. Afterwards, they went to the inventing room where Willy was to meet with Charlie to supposedly get some work done. They mainly succeeded in blowing things up and burning stuff. Willy was simply in no shape at all to do anything productive. So, after a few hours of nothing but failed attempts at candy making, Charlie decided that maybe he should try and figure out what was wrong with his mentor, but only after he handled this latest problem.

"Ahh! Willy! Your sleeve is on fire!" Charlie exclaimed, dropping the beaker he held with a crash.

"Wha? Oh..," Willy said, not really paying attention. When he looked at his sleeve however, the flame got the attention it deserved. "OH! AHHHHH!" And Willy proceeded to flap his arm dramatically a few times, knock over a few more beakers of ingredients, and spin around in two full circles before he figured he should go over and stick his arm in the sink like he should have been used to doing by now. Charlie joined him at the sink. Chelsea had been off using the restroom and undoubtedly checking herself out in the full length mirror, again.

"Willy…is everything alright today?" Charlie inquired patiently. The sound of ripping fabric filled the area as Willy pulled off what was left of his entire right sleeve. Luckily, he had taken his jacket off so it was only a white button up undershirt that got destroyed. Not like he did not have a hundred other jackets though. He frowned at the burnt bits of fabric in the sink.

"What makes you think there's anything at all the matter Buckey boy?" He asked quietly. He knew he had to eventually tell Charlie about the phone call, seeing as he did not want to accompany Chelsea alone, but he did not really want to think about the situation at all right now. His lame attempt at normal name calling humor did not go unnoticed by Charlie.

"Um… well, lets see, you've been frowning all day, you look really worried, and you've just about destroyed the entire inventing room. Oh and your sleeve," Charlie pointed out. He picked up one of the charred pieces of fabric and held it up in front of Willy's face to emphasize his point. "See, or did you _just_ forget?"

Willy stared at the fabric for a second and then looked down. "Its Chelsea," he finally said.

Charlie cringed slightly but quickly forced a neutral look onto his face. He was all for staying out of the way of Willy if he was interested in pursuing a relationship with Chelsea, but if Willy wanted dating tips or something similar, well _that_ was a bit too weird. He chose to just wait for Willy to tell him the rest before coming to any conclusions.

"Her father called."

This was not what Charlie had been expecting. "What did _he_ have to say to her?" Charlie said, suddenly very angry.

"Said he was home now. That'd he'd been in the hospital. Said he was sober and planned to stay that way."

"So?"

"And that he wants Chelsea to come and talk to him tomorrow."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Willy took off his semi-melted gloves and pulled a new pair out of the pocket of his pants. He wrung them in his hands for a minute nervously before putting them on.

"Did she agree to go meet with him?"

"Yeah."

"Well we're going too, right?"

"Will you come with us? I don't wanna be the only one there with her.. in case something.. happens."

"Of course."

"Good. Thanks."

"No problem. How did she take talking to him on the phone?"

"Better than I took listening to her talk to him on the phone."

"Hhm."

Suddenly, Willy whirled around and gripped Charlie's shoulders with a stricken look on his face. "Charlie.. what if.. I mean.. she wouldn't _stay_ with him if he asked her to, would she?"

Charlie had not thought of that, but he highly doubted it now that he did. "I don't think you have to worry about anything like that Willy. She likes it here. Plus, well, I mean.. even if she does move eventually, I don't think she'd be stupid enough to move back in with her father."

Willy released Charlie and dropped his arms to his sides. He let out a breath he had not been aware that he had been holding. "Yeah.. I ..she's not stupid." He felt a little bit of the weight that had been building on his shoulders lift.

Chelsea reentered the inventing room then. "What burned _this_ time?" She asked, jokingly. When she spotted them over by the sink, she headed towards them. She took in the sight of Willy's shirt and she had to hold in her laughter. She smiled up at him and then she realized that his arm was under that shirt, as quite obvious by the fact that it was bare there for all to see, and that he could have been seriously injured. Her smile disappeared, she stepped over to him reaching out and running her fingertips down the length of his bare arm. His skin was very soft. He was not as scrawny as he looked when clothed. He was muscular enough. She felt him stiffen under her touch so she dropped her arm. "Are you okay Willy? You weren't hurt or anything were you?" She asked, worry evident in her voice.

Goosebumps had risen where she had touched his skin and he was absently rubbing them with is other hand. "No, I'm fine," he said, attempting to smile at her.

"Good. The planet would be far worse if something happened to the sweetest man on it," she said, flashing Willy with a beautiful smile. He could not help but smile an actual smile back at her. His smile disappeared when he saw her gazing at his bare arm with another one of those mischievous expressions. "Flex," she said.

"Excuse me?" Willy replied. Charlie dawned a grin that he quickly covered with one hand.

"Flex your arm.. like this," and she flexed one of hers in the traditional Popeye fashion.

Willy looked at her as if she had gone completely bonkers. He had also started wringing his hands. She laid one of her hands atop his to stop his fidgeting. "Willy, I only wanna see how tough you are. C'mon, don't be so shy!" She released his hand. Charlie slinked away unnoticed to try and help the Oompa Loompas clean up the mess he and Willy had just made. Willy still did not look like he quite wanted to play this particular game of Chelsea's. She smiled at him again and flexed in case he had forgotten how in the last thirty seconds. In the end it was her smile that got him to do it. He raised his bare arm, made a fist, and flexed as well as he could. He faltered a bit when she reached out and squeezed his bicep. She giggled and then linked her arm over his bare one and pulled it down. "Thanks, see, that wasn't so bad now was it?"

"Why did you want me to do that?" He was confused.

"Because I wanted to see your muscles.. and of course to see you squirm."

"Why did you want to see that? I mean my.. my .. muscles…"

"Because your arm is just so sexy, all.. sleeveless. I wanted to see your muscles at their best. You know, you should wear short sleeves more often," she batted her eyelashes at him in that way that made him go slightly weak in the knees. He was already blushing furiously because she had called his arm sexy. He had never been called sexy before. Wow.

Just then Charlie, having been shooed away by the Oompa Loompas for getting in their way, approached them. "So, did he do it?" He said, laughing a bit.

"Mmmhmm," Chelsea said with a smile. Willy did not think he had ever been quite this embarrassed.

Charlie laughed again and then said, "So, lunch at my house?"

"Actually… if you two would be interested, I was hoping that maybe we could go see if.. a _friend_ of mine.. wanted to join us for lunch out somewhere?" Chelsea said, clearly plotting something. Willy and Charlie exchanged skeptical looks. Especially since Willy Wonka did not really ever _go_ out to eat.

"Um.. well.. Willy?" Charlie asked, still looking at Willy.

"Well.. I _guess_ we could go out ..somewhere. But.. I would attract a lot of attention. I usually only go out if its going to be real quick and can get away in the elevator if need be. We'd never be able to enjoy an entire lunch out without being harassed," Willy said.

Chelsea's expression changed into one that said quite obviously that she had just had a brilliant, or at least what she considered to be brilliant, epiphany. "Ooohhh I know how we can get around without being bothered!" She exclaimed and clapped her hands together excitedly. Grabbing Willy, she pulled him toward the door.

"Where are we going?" He said.

"_You_ are going to take me to _your_ room… or wherever it is that you keep all of your clothing, and then _we_ are gonna get you dressed for lunch!"

---

Once inside Willy's walk in closet, which was about the size of a one bedroom apartment, Chelsea began looking through all of his clothing for something she thought would be suitable. The main obstacle was that most of his clothing was either too colorful or too expensive looking. Finally, she had gathered what she wanted and returned to where he sat on his enormous, four poster bed. He stood up as she approached.

"Alright, go put all this stuff on and then come out so I can see if it works," she said as she thrust the clothing into his arms. He merely gave her a semi-questioning look and then obeyed. When he came out he was still fastening the uppermost buttons of the shirt. Buttons were fairly difficult with gloves on. She walked over to where he stood and resumed buttoning for him. She did so quite slowly, appreciating the glimpse of his bare chest. He just stood there awkwardly.

When she was done, had stepped back, and was thoroughly appraising him, he said, "So… is this okay?"

She nodded enthusiastically in response. She had picked out a simple light blue silk button up shirt that matched her dress nicely, some black slacks, and a pair of black loafers that did_ not_ have a W anywhere on them. He looked fancy but normal. He could almost pass as not himself. There were only three more pressing issues, one much easier to correct than the others. She needed to find him some normal shades. She also needed to figure out what to do with his hair. She knew she was going to have a problem with the gloves though.

"Do you have any relatively unobtrusive sunglasses?" She asked.

"Yeah…" he replied.

"Well go get them, and get a hair band while you're at it, okay?"

He nodded and headed back into the bathroom. When he came out of the bathroom he went over to one of his dressers and opened the very bottom drawer. He returned to her with three pairs of sunglasses and then fished the black hair tie out of his pocket. He held everything out to her. She selected one pair of glasses and put them on his face. He sat the others on the bed. Then she took the hair band and motioned for him to take a seat. He sat on a chair by a desk. She went around to the back of the chair and contemplated his hair. It was just long enough to get into a pony tail but his bangs were a problem. She smoothed back his hair and put it into a small tail. Now his bangs really were just silly. She would have to try and get him to grow them out to the length of his hair. But, since they were so obviously, _weird_, she would need to go see if he had a different sort of hat. She returned to his closet. He merely turned his head and watched her disappear. She found a Fedora style hat made of soft black felt. That would do. The slightly bent brim would cover his bangs nicely. She returned and plopped it on his head. There, almost done.

"Willy.. are you sure you can't take off your gloves? They are.. well.. they're _purple_. They attract attention," she said, coming to stand in front of him and placing her hands on her hips.

Willy looked down and stared at his gloved hands. When he did not look up, she decided that they really did not matter so much.

"Well.. do you have any other colors? Maybe black?" She said. At this he nodded yes and went to go fetch them. When he returned Chelsea looked him up and down and squealed in delight. They would definitely need to find an upscale restaurant but they would fit in just fine.

---

Chelsea had excused herself to go find a phone book and give her friend a call. Charlie and Willy were waiting at the back entrance of the factory for her. Willy had called his driver and told him to pick out one of the normal cars and pick them up in. Just as Willy was about to check his watch for the fifteenth time, she arrived.

"Sorry, my, er.. _friend_, was kinda busy. Needed to be persuaded a bit to join us."

They said nothing. Willy extended an elbow for her to take. She linked arms with him, and then they proceeded to the car. Chelsea smiled when she saw what Willy had told her would be a covert vehicle. She bet no one else for miles owned one of these. It was a deep burgundy colored, apparently customized, Rolls-Royce Phantom. Oh well. Better than a maroon stretch limo or something. She bet he had one of those as well. After they were all seated in the car she leaned forward and handed the driver her friend's address on a small slip of paper. Then, turning to Willy said, "So, did you get us any reservations?"

"Yep."

"Where at?"

"Its called _A Taste of Paradise_ and it serves any type of food you could want. Really fancy dancy," Willy replied.

After driving for a while Willy began to fidget more and more. Finally, after sharing several concerned looks with Charlie, Chelsea felt she needed to say something.

"Are you _okay_?" She rested her hand on his knee to stop it from bouncing.

"Uh yeah.. just.. …" He looked out the window like he was expecting to see someone.

"We're awfully close to his dad's house, that's the problem," responded Charlie, finally figuring it out.

"Well we _should_ be considering that's who we're picking up," Chelsea said with a smile. Her smile did not last very long when she received one shocked look from Charlie and one horrified one from Willy. Ut-oh. "Okay, quick, give me the story Charlie."

"Well, Willy ran away when he was little and his father ditched him so Willy was really on his own. Anyway, it wasn't until after the Golden Ticket contest that I went with Willy so he would make amends with his father. It was just really awkward so they haven't really been keeping in touch much. And, as you can see, Willy is scared to death," he said, gesturing to the now visibly shaking Willy. Chelsea looked back at Willy and did the only thing she could think to do, she hugged him.

"Oh Willy, it won't be all that bad. I met your father a few weeks ago and he was really nice to me," she said into his neck.

Willy stopped shaking somewhat. "He ..he was? I mean.. he was nice to you?"

"Yep. It was pouring down rain so he invited me in. He let me wring out my clothes in his office bathroom and gave me a Wonka-Vite because he said I looked really sick."

"He did?" The amazement in his voice was clear.

"Yep. Said it worked wonders on his cold once."

Willy got a thoughtful look on his face and then smiled a bit. She released him and sat back up. "So, will it be alright to have lunch with him? I mean, its only lunch, won't take _that_ long."

"Yeah.. it should be okay… I guess," he replied. The car had just pulled up to Dr. Wonka's house.

"Great! I'll go fetch him then," she said and got out of the car. Willy immediately moved to sit beside Charlie. He was not comfortable enough to sit next to his father yet. Chelsea did not say anything about the new seating arrangement when she got back; she merely preceded Dr. Wonka into the car. When he got in he nodded to Charlie and then to Willy. They both nodded back. The ride to the restaurant was completely silent. Chelsea thought of many things she could say, but decided she had better save them for the restaurant.

---

They were seated at a very nice and very exclusive table at the back of the exquisite restaurant. The seating arrangement was a little different this time; Charlie and Dr. Wonka on one side of the table, Willy and Chelsea on the other. Willy pulled out her chair for her. After ordering and noticing that none of these men were going to ever start a conversation, Chelsea dove right in.

"So, Dr. Wonka, where was that photo of you and Willy taken?" She said, leaning in interestedly. She missed the strange glance that Willy gave her at the mention of the photo.

"That particular photograph was taken by my mother at her cottage in Tuscany. We were vacationing at the time," he responded politely, taking a sip of his wine.

"Ooohh Tuscany, how lovely," Chelsea commented, getting a dreaming look in her eyes.

"Indeed," was Dr. Wonka's only response. He glanced at Willy and they both quickly looked in opposite directions.

Willy began nervously playing with the utensils on the table. Chelsea saw this so she reached up and took his hand in hers, entwined their fingers while lowering their hands under the table. This did not go unnoticed by Dr. Wonka; he quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. Instead of adding to Willy's already frayed nerves, holding her hand made him feel a lot better. A small smile finally returned to his features. This also did not go unnoticed by Dr. Wonka.

They spent the meal in mostly comfortable silence as they ate. The only comments were offhand ones made by Chelsea to Dr. Wonka. The others just nodded here and there when necessary, but they were obviously not too uncomfortable. They simply could not think of anything to say.

When lunch was over and they were back outside Dr. Wonka's house, Wonka Sr. shook Charlie's hand and then got out of the car. Once outside he popped his head back in and asked to speak with Chelsea privately. She followed him out, closing the door behind herself.

"Yes?" She inquired politely.

"I just wanted to thank you for inviting me to lunch today. Willy and I.. well.. we're not good at .. visiting, or finding the time…." He struggled.

"I know. I'm glad you had a good time. I hope you two will try to see more of each other. It would be nice…" she said with a smile. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, which was not so unexpected, a very courteous and fatherly gesture, but what he whispered in her ear _was_ unexpected.

"I trust you'll keep him out of trouble while I'm not around." Opening the door he effectively cut off anything comment she might have thought to make to that statement. She smiled and took her seat. His next move was also unexpected.

"Willy.. might I have a word?" Dr. Wonka said.

Willy straightened up, his eyes growing wide, but he got out of the car closing the door behind him just as Chelsea had.

"Y..yeah?" He said nervously.

"I just wanted to let you know that I think Chelsea is a fine girl. I sincerely hope that you treat her well," was all his father stated. He then clapped Willy on the shoulder and opened the car door. Slightly confused, his son simply nodded and got back into the car. His father then said, "Good day," to all of them and closed the door firmly.

Willy took off his sunglasses and sat them in his lap. He and Chelsea's eyes locked for a brief moment before they blinked and looked away out opposite windows. The tension was thick and Charlie could sense that Dr. Wonka had told them each something that neither could quite come to terms with yet. Attempting to lighten the air he joked, "What, no private pep talks for Charlie?" But when all he received was a small smile from Chelsea and no response at all from Willy he decided that at this time it was a lost cause.

The ride back to the factory was an exceedingly quiet one.


	14. Papa May Have

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 14: Papa May Have

The morning in which they were to go and meet Chelsea's father had finally arrived. Chelsea was still sleeping as it was currently only five a.m. Willy was in his closet pacing. Not that he was necessarily having difficulties picking out which clothing to wear, he knew what he wanted; it just happened that this is where he was so this is where he was pacing nervously. His anxiety had reached an alarming level. It was definitely an all time high for him. He was not this scared when his father had ditched him as a child, or when he opened his factory, nor even when he found out there were dirty rotten spies stealing his recipes and thought that he had to close down his factory forever. The weirdest thing was that he could not pinpoint exactly what it was about this situation that made everything seem so much worse. His father's words from the previous day kept ringing in his ears.

…_Chelsea is a fine girl. I sincerely hope that you treat her well. _

Well, Chelsea is a very fine girl and he does treat her well. What was his father really trying to say? It was driving Willy mad. It just did not make any _sense_… he knew that he would always treat Chelsea well, always, always, always, alw.. _oh_. Always. Hmm.. well that did make a bit more sense. Willy knew that he liked Chelsea a lot and that it would be very nice if she were around for a long time but he had not really thought about much beyond that or about what _that_ even entailed. And, as was his habit when things became too complicated, he shook his head and decided he had been pacing long enough. He needed clothes.

---

They were to have breakfast at Charlie's house before leaving to go to see Chelsea's father. Charlie and Willy were waiting for her in the hall outside of her room. Charlie had not commented on the Candy Maker's new style. Chelsea undoubtedly would, though, which was why he kept fidgeting with his shirt. Finally she opened the door.

The boys looked just as shocked to see what she was wearing as she did to see Willy's outfit.

She had chosen some more of the new clothing Willy had bought for her. A silk aquamarine colored, floor length skirt with slits up the sides to just above her knees. A white corset with aquamarine laces up the front, white 18th century style mule shoes with one inch heels, and a darker aquamarine 1870's style frock coat that was altered slightly to hug her curves and pinch in at the middle, which fell to the top of her calves. She had the top half of her hair pulled back over the rest and in a pony tail. She looked like a modern Victorian fashion mogul.

Willy was wearing the same hat she had picked out yesterday and another pair of black slacks as well as the same shiny shoes. He also had his hair tied back again. It was his shirt that was interesting. He had found in the recesses of his closet, where Chelsea had not, a woolen, short sleeved, polo shirt, in a dark indigo color. Chelsea thought that he resembled some sort of cross between Michael Jackson and a swing dancer. Not to say that that was a bad thing. Not at all actually.

Charlie cleared his throat which alerted them to the fact that they had been staring at each other for about three full minutes. Both blushed accordingly. Willy was unsure if he should offer her his arm as he usually did because it would mean that she would be touching his bare arm again. He quickly decided that it was worth a try at the very least. He crooked his arm and she held onto his inner elbow. They followed Charlie to his house.

Breakfast went as usual with the exception of the strange glances Willy was receiving from the Buckets. Chelsea realized that they must have never seen Willy dressed in anything besides his usual Edwardian sheik until recently.

Before they knew it they had nothing else to do as the food had been cleared away, so it was finally time to go meet Chelsea's father. They took the elevator since it was the fastest transportation at hand.

---

Willy had to breathe deeply and try and relax himself the entire way there. He was shaking slightly, Chelsea could tell that being attached to his arm. She was worried he might faint… he certainly looked like he could at any moment. Charlie only looked determined. Chelsea did not really know how she looked. She felt alright. Enough time had passed so it just felt like any of the other times she had talked to her father after him having hurt her. Plus she had her body guards. She was half expecting her father to have bought her something useless and to give it to her in a gift wrapped box once they entered. That would be weird in front of her friends. She hoped he did not do that.

Upon their arrival Charlie lowered the elevator into her back yard so that they would attract less attention. The doors opened and Charlie stepped out. Chelsea moved to follow him but was halted by the anchor attached to her hand. Willy would not budge. She turned to him. He looked very frightened.

"It'll be okay Willy. He hasn't been drinking, so he'll be normal for the most part. He just wants to tell me some things he said. And ask me something. Nothing funny will happen, okay?" She said reassuringly.

Willy closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened his eyes and nodded at her. They walked to the back door. Chelsea knocked. They heard footsteps and then the back door opened. Her father looked confused.

"Oh, we came in the back because the flying elevator draws a lot of attention. We didn't want to park it out front," Chelsea explained. Her father then looked even more confused.

"Flying elevator?" he said.

"Yeah, Willy made it. He's a genius," she replied, smiling over at the man at her side. Her father followed her gaze.

"Willy Wonka, eh?" He said by way of statement rather than actual question. They all nodded. He looked from Willy's face down to where he was touching Chelsea and then turned his attention to Charlie. "And you.. you must be that Bucket boy then?"

Charlie nodded and glared at the man. He obviously had not forgotten when he had scared him so badly while he waited for Chelsea to give him her number. After another glance at Willy her father finally pushed aside the door and gestured for them to enter. Chelsea had to pry Willy's fingers off of her hand so that they could fit through the door individually. When they went inside she led them into the living room where she sat on the couch, flanked on either side once again by her body guards. Her father took a seat across from them on the recliner. The tension in the room was palpable.

"So, you wanted to talk?" Chelsea prompted her father.

He looked at her for a few moments and then nodded. "I wanted to see if you were alright." He looked her over. "You look very well."

"She didn't look very well after _you_ were through with her," growled Charlie. Her father had the good sense to look abashed, but he made no effort to say anything further on the subject.

"Well. Chelsea. I just thought you might like to know that I am going to sell this house and move back to California with your Uncle for awhile," he said matter-of-factly.

"Alright. Sounds like a good idea. Aunt Joyce will keep you out of trouble," Chelsea remarked obviously referring to his drinking.

"Yes. And she said that she can't wait to see _you_ again," her father replied.

At this comment Willy and Charlie gave each other worried looks behind Chelsea's back and then looked at Chelsea in anticipation of her response. She did not look phased.

"Well, Aunt Joyce might have to wait a while for that because I don't want to go with you," was all she said.

Both men at her sides exhaled loudly.

"That is, if you still don't mind me staying at the factory?" She said, looking at Willy.

"No!" Willy almost screamed. "You can stay as long as you want!"

"I mean.. until I can get on my feet or ..whatever.." she continued.

Willy looked saddened by this statement. "Yeah.. as.. as long as you want Chelsea."

They returned their gazes to her father.

"You'd rather stay with these _strangers_ than with your own family?" Her father spat.

"These are my friends. They… they _are_ my family now," was all she responded.

"I see. Well. You'll want to get anything that you wish to keep out of this house before next week then. I am auctioning it all after that."

"Okay. Is that all?" Chelsea suddenly realized that she did not want to be in her father's presence any longer.

"Will you visit at least every other summer?" He asked, seeming nervous all of the sudden.

"I'll have to think about that. I'll let you know," she answered.

"Alright," he said and then stood up. They all walked to the back door. Her father opened it and then stepped aside. Charlie walked out first. As Chelsea walked by her father cleared his throat which made her stop and turn to face him. He had a somewhat regretful look in his eyes. He reached out toward Chelsea's face causing her to instinctively flinch. He found his arm quiet unexpectedly in a vice grip after that. Everyone stared. Chelsea was forced back as Willy stepped in front of her, her father's wrist still held tightly in his hand. As he looked into Willy's eyes her father knew that his life was actually in danger. He knew that the man standing before him would kill him if he ever touched his daughter again. Willy's eyes were narrowed and his face hard set. He released her father's wrist with a toss, flinging it away from them as if it were the foulest thing on the Earth. Straightening up Willy sucked in a breath and said,

"Don'tyou _ever_ try to touch her _again_ or it'll be the last thing you _ever do_." Neither Chelsea nor Charlie had ever heard Willy sound so adult and so absolutely genuine before.

It was frightening.

It was exceptional.

It almost brought Chelsea to tears.

Her father backed away a few steps and they departed, Willy slamming the door in his wake.

When they got into the elevator, Willy draped his arm protectively over Chelsea's shoulders. He had just come to a realization. As he saw her father reaching out towards Chelsea his heart nearly stopped. He did not care if he was reaching out to strike her or to simply stroke her cheek. He was _not_ going to touch her ever again if there was anything Willy could say about it. And in that same moment Willy realized what his father had been referring to and what he had been so confused about. He realized that he _wanted_ to be there forever to making sure that her father never hurt her again. To make sure that _no one _ever hurt her again. He realized that Chelsea meant more to him than anything: his factory, his money, even his life.

He just hoped that some day she could realize the same thing about him.


	15. The Beauty of Sadness

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 15: The Beauty of Sadness

It took a few days but Willy finally convinced Chelsea that she did not need to stay in the very first guest room that the Oompa Loompa's had prepared for her. Unbeknownst to even Charlie, Willy had a whole slew of vacant rooms. Willy had offered to give the Bucket's their own wing once but they politely declined feeling more like a family if they stayed in their own home and because they did not want Willy to go to any trouble by building on to his factory. Charlie was aware that he had _some_ rooms but not this many! Thankfully, his mom had not turned down the remodeling as well.

So here they were in the midst of the wealth of open rooms. Chelsea had chosen the one closest to Willy's private living quarters, much to his delight. The room was enormous; easily the size of a three bedroom home. Chelsea was acting like it was a big deal and like she had to try and repay Willy for his kindness, while Willy was acting like Christmas had come early.

"Are you _absolutely_ positive that this is no hassle?" She said one last time after they had dropped Charlie back off at his house. They were now walking down a step stone path in the Chocolate Room, arms linked, heading back towards the elevator. She really wanted to be sure that she was not imposing on him. She would hate it if he really did not want her there. He halted them; bent and picked a small rosebud made of raspberry flavored hard candy, and held it out to her. She took it and gave it a lick.

"It's no hassle, no hustle, no nuthin' but super duper coolness, kay?" Willy replied with a huge grin. He had been a lot happier since she had decided not to go with her father. She might not have decided to permanently stay in the factory but he at least could deal with that at a later point in time.

"_Willy_."

"I _really_ mean it Chelsea. You are absatively posilutely welcome to stay here in the factory for as long as you wanna!" He exclaimed; taping her lightly on the head with his cane for good measure.

"I guess I just can't wrap my mind around someone being so nice to me for no reason, not wanting anything in return, yah know?" She said, looking away from him and giving the sucker another tiny lick.

"Ah. You see therein lies the secret to all of your confusion little missy! I am not doing this for _no_ reason, but the reason is the return. The result is the reason. Hah!"

"You really want me to stay here?" She sounded unsure; particularly because what he had just said had made her even more confused.

"Duh!" was his only response. Silly overgrown man-child. She smiled at him.

"Well, if you're sure then I need to go scavenge my stuff before _he_ sells it all."

"Yeah…" Willy was not exactly thrilled with the prospect of having to return to her father's house. Whenever he thought about that man his blood felt as if it were boiling and he would start thinking the strangest, most morbid thoughts.

"Don't worry, he'll stay out of our way. Especially since a certain big and brave Candy Man scared the crap out of him the other day!" Chelsea said, giggling.

Willy blushed. He did not know what had come over him that day with her father. It was by far the bravest thing he had ever done; hike in Loompaland be damned! It was like something inside of him had snapped. A voice in the back of his brain had screamed out two words that sounded a lot like _no _and _mine_ when her father had reached out towards her. Some kind of strange protective animal had hatched within him somewhere. It was still in him now, just not so apparent. Willy did not mind it though. For how scary it was he felt that it was still well worth it. This was a change in himself he appreciated because it was very helpful. He hoped that he would always be able to be helpful where Chelsea was concerned. He would do anything for her. If it meant he would have to suffer these weird protective impulses and this new side of himself, then so be it.

"Willy Wonka; Magician, Genius, Chocolatier, and savior of a damsel in distress!" Willy joked nervously.

"My _hero_!" Chelsea played along. "Well Mr. Hero, we need to go get my stuff before someone else does!"

And so they went.

---

It turned out that Chelsea's father was not home at the time that they chose to go to pick up her stuff, so Chelsea and Willy combed through her room seeking out all of the personal things that she wanted to keep. She only kept the very favorite of her clothing seeing as Willy had bought her a whole new wardrobe full. She had just begun going through her book collection to see which, if any, she wanted to keep. Willy informed her several times that he had a vast library so she really did not need to bring _any _of her books. She said that she did not know what the future would bring so she had better keep anything that she really liked or might need. This declaration made Willy quite uncomfortable because he kept interpreting these types of statements as hints that she did not plan on staying in the factory very long at all. In actuality she only kept saying them out of insecurity. She was not really sure, despite his frequent reassurances, if Willy was serious about wanting her in his factory for a long period of time.

She picked up a pile of books and tossed them on to the bed, Ender's Game was one of them. When it hit the mattress its bookmark fell out and fluttered to the floor at Willy's feet. He bent and snatched it up. "Hey, you dropped th.." he stopped speaking as he noticed the font on the front of the card. It was his business card with his office number. He stared at it for a moment before smiling. This was what had brought Chelsea into his life. This was a very lucky card. He moved to put it into his pocket but Chelsea had heard that he had started to say something so she was staring at him expectantly.

"You were saying," she prompted.

"Oh. Well. This is the card that started it all, right? It fell out of one of the books." He held the card out to her. She took it. She smiled at his number but then something clicked in her mind. She immediately flipped it over and looked at Violet's number on the other side. Mumbling something about having to use the restroom she left in a hurry. When she got into the restroom she lowered the lid on the toilet and sat down, covering her face with her hands. She had completely forgotten. How could she have forgotten something so incredibly important? What kind of a horrible monster was she? And then she began to cry.

---

When Chelsea had not returned for over fifteen minutes Willy began to worry. There were two reasons for his worrying. One of the reasons was because they were taking far too long and her father was bound to return eventually. The other reason was because something must be wrong with Chelsea to keep her in the restroom for so long. He decided to go check on her. He leaned against the restroom door.

"Chaaa-elllll-seeeeea? Are you alright?" Willy asked. He heard her blow her nose and then he heard the water running. She opened the door.

"Yeah. S..sorry I took so long. So, back to business?" She replied, looking anywhere but at him. He could see that her eyes were red even though she was trying her hardest to hide them from him. He reached down and tipped up her chin with one long purple gloved finger.

"Are you _sure_ you're okay mon raison d'etre?" Willy asked, double checking. He knew he would not believe her if she said no again, but he had to give her another chance to open up to him.

"Yes. Well, no. I mean… its just that I forgot about Violet this whole time and I really feel bad.. I mean.. how could I just _forget_ about her?" Chelsea finally met his gaze as she said this.

"Oh." Willy had thought it would be something much more serious, but just forgetting about the little Beauregarde chit? Not so bad. "Well, now you remember! Anyway lets go finish gathering your stuff so we can jam before your nasty evil pops gets back," he said with a smile. Chelsea looked at him oddly for a moment. She could not believe he had just immediately dismissed her problem. He did not even seem to care that it had bothered her so much that she had just spent fifteen minutes crying about it in the restroom. She straightened up and nodded and then returned to her room. They did not speak until they were done.

"So, you ready to split lil miss banana?" Willy asked cheerfully after he had looked around and decided that they were probably finished.

"Mmhmm," was Chelsea's only reply. They made about three trips each but it really was not that much stuff. The problem was that the boxes they were using were not that big. There was just enough standing room for them in the elevator when they had it packed. Upon further reflection Willy thought that perhaps they should have brought a vehicle. Oh well, hindsight is almost always twenty/twenty after all!

---

After they had finished bringing all of the boxes into Chelsea's new room, Willy found that his tummy was awfully grumbley.

"Wanna grab some grub before yah dig into all this… stuff that is _not_ grub?" Willy gestured to the boxes on the floor and then looked back at Chelsea.

A very quiet "no thank you" was all she said. She did not even look at him.

"Are you _sure_? You look hungry muffin. I mean.. you look like a …no… er.. do you _want_ a muffin at least? You look starved! You didn't eat much for breakfast." He said, struggling with his words and mentally giving himself a swift kick in the arse.

She shrugged and replied, "who cares if I starve?" She knew that she was being immature but she was mad that he had just blown off her feelings earlier. She wanted him to figure out that she was still upset and even more so now because of him. Then she wanted him to make her happy once again. Why she was trying to place all of this obligation upon his shoulders, even she did not know.

"Um, _hel-_lo," he waved at her dramatically, "_I_ care, that's who. If you starve then you'll most certainly die and I will have none of that. No Chelsea deaths in _my_ factory."

"Well its interesting that you think it matters if I _die_ but don't give a hoot about my _feelings_."

What? Her feelings? "Excuse me? Uh I care about your feelings. If I didn't care _you_ would probably not be here, huh?" He pointed at her and then waggled his finger childishly.

"Well you certainly didn't care a little while ago when I came out of the restroom," she said, walking away from him, over to the dresser to put space between them. It was mostly for affect. She idly started drumming her fingers on her sketch pad.

"When you came out of the restroom? But you said you were okay.. er.. at first.." he said, coming to stand by her.

"Well I wasn't! I.. I felt really bad and you didn't even seem to care at all!" She shouted.

"Why would you get so upset over.. over that no good, prissy, meanie, little chit who is probably just as…as nasty as her _mother_?" Willy asked; he seemed honestly curious.

Crack.

Oh.

Well she just slapped him.

And now she was crying.

Not good.

Willy raised a gloved hand to rub his cheek where there was undoubtedly a bright red mark blossoming. He could not believe that she had just slapped him; and for something as incredibly stupid as Violet Beauregarde. _Ew_. His shock and disgust quickly turned into confusion and anxiety as Chelsea's tears worsened. He reached out toward her. She batted his hand away and shoved him, hard. He almost tripped over the boxes behind him but he skillfully dodged them only to find himself forcefully shoved again. He was being shooed toward the door. No, _out_ the door. What the?

"Chelsea?" He pleaded, his voice high.

"No, just _go_. Leave me alone!" She screamed. She walked back across the room and over to her dresser once again. She began pacing in front of it. Well at least she had not closed the door.

"What did I _do_!" Willy cried, stomping his foot.

"Urrrgh!" Chelsea raged. She reached for whatever she could get her hands on which just so happened to be her sketch pad, and hurled it straight at his face. She was remarkably on target. He raised his arm in time to successfully block it. The pad burst open upon impact and drawings flew everywhere, mostly back into the room. Willy gave her a quick glare and then bent to gather up the sketches at his feet. Just as he straightened up and lifted his gaze back to her, he found himself nose to door. She had just slammed it in his face. Fuming silently, Willy tightened his grip on the sketches in his hands and turned, rushing away.

He needed time to think.

He needed time to seethe.

He would probably need to talk to Charlie to figure out what in the _world_ had just happened.

He would talk to Charlie later.

Right now, for the first time ever, he _really_ wanted to break something. He had had small tantrums before where he would throw something or kick something because a candy had come out wrong, but right now he was super duper angry. He headed to his room.

Chelsea spent the remainder of her night crying, unpacking, or a mixture of the two, usually at the same time.

---

Two hours and one broken lamp, mirror, cane, and one hole in the wall and ripped bed curtain later, found Willy exhausted and sitting on his four-poster with his head in his hands. Luckily he had replacements for all of those objects. He would need to have the Oompa Loompa's mix some new burgundy paint for the wall and stitch the maroon curtain he had somehow managed to rip. He did not really remember exactly how everything got so destroyed. He was frustrated, he was angry, he was sad, he was confused, and to top it all off he kept crying a little which was totally unbefitting an almost middle aged, male, billionaire. It was time to seek out Charlie's advice on the whole stupid situation.

Willy did not feel like leaving his room in this _condition_, so he called Charlie him via their watches. Charlie was there within two minutes. Willy cleaned up the mess before allowing Charlie entrance. Well, all except for the hole in the wall. Maybe he would not notice.

"You rang?" Charlie teased when Willy opened the door. Upon seeing Willy his smile faded. When Willy finally opened his eyes Charlie drew in a sharp breath. "What happened?" He entered Willy's room without invitation.

"Chelsea _happened_," Willy said darkly.

"Uhh…. Okay that sounded pretty bad so please _do_ explain."

"She.. well.. she's gone completely crazy. It's like a Vermicious Knid took over her body and attacked me!"

"Please elaborate."

"Okay.. well it all started when we were at her fathers. She went to the bathroom and she was in there for like an eternity, so I went to check on her. When she came out it looked like she'd been crying a bit but when I asked her what was wrong she just said that she'd forgotten that Beauregard girl and that she couldn't believe she'd done that but I don't understand that at all because it was really easy, I did it once, remember? Anyway, then she was okay til later and I asked if she was hungry but she wasn't and I called her a muffin by mistake.. maybe that's what made her crazy?" Willy said quickly.

"Um, I highly doubt it, keep going," Charlie said, crossing his arms over his chest and quirking and eyebrow.

"Well then she said some rubbish about me not caring what she thinks or something and I told her that was a full load but then I pointed out how dumb she was acting over that evil little priss and she went and slapped me right across the face!"

"Well if you said those things then you deserved it."

"What? Nonsense. Anyway, so then she pushed me out of the room and threw her …that book she draws in.. right, her sketch pad right at my head but I blocked it and then she slammed the door on me. So I… well.. so I left. And here we are."

"Wow."

"I know! Do you think it _is_ possible for Vermicious Knids to take over someone's body?" Willy looked alarmed at the prospect.

"No, but I do think its possible for certain men who are supposed to be geniuses to have their moments of pure idiocy!" Charlie exclaimed, raising his arms into the air for emphasis.

"Uh, and just _how_ do you mean?"

"Chelsea told me that Violet was her step sister and I think she cares about her an awful lot… to just… you.. well you just basically said _I don't give a crap if someone else means anything to you because I'm a big fat douche bag!_ And then you… Willy! You really messed up.. you _hurt_ her!"

Willy's eyes widened. He had no idea. Oh man, oh man, oh man… He meant to never ever hurt her. He went over to where he had sat the pile of her sketches and picked them up. Then he handed them to Charlie. "Here.. you'd better give those back to her because I doubt she'll ever talk to _me_ again."

Charlie accepted them and then noticed the very top one. "Willy, did you even _look_ at these?"

Willy shook his head no and glanced at the top one. There, sitting against a wall with her knees drawn to her chest and a very solemn look on her face, sat little Violet Beauregarde. Only she was not so little any more. She was a woman. A very sad looking woman. In what appeared to be a jail cell or something. Oh dear. Willy grabbed the sketch and looked at it more closely. So she _was_ still purple … He thought it would have worn off because it had worn off of the Oompa Loompa testers. He could tell she was still colored because of the way Chelsea had shaded her. Such a good little artist. A good little artist that would probably hate him for ever and ever. Willy felt moisture gathering in his eyes again. He handed the sketch back to Charlie and went over to his bed and sat down. He put his face back into his hands.

"She's so …_sad_," Charlie said quietly, looking at the picture of Violet.

They shared a few moments of painful silence.

Willy was just about to abandon all hope when Charlie cleared his throat. He looked up.

"So do you want Chelsea to ever speak to you again?" Charlie asked sardonically.

"Of course!" Willy cried.

"Are you willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen?"

"Y..yes.. I would do an..anything for Chelsea, why?"

Charlie was contemplative for a few moments before finally saying, "because I think I have a plan, that's why."

Then he walked out the door.


	16. The Mission

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 16: The Mission

After Charlie had rushed out of his room claiming that he had a plan, Willy simply stayed sitting on his bed. He was still having an internal emotional rollercoaster. He had a mixture of emotions warring inside of him, but thankfully now one of them was hope. If Charlie could get Chelsea to no longer be angry with him then he would worship the ground Charlie walks on. A vision of Chelsea's tear streaked face sprang to his mind and his heart gave a painful ache. He laid back and turned onto his side, unknowingly mimicking the position Chelsea had been in after she had received the phone call from her father. He stayed like that until Charlie returned a short time later.

Willy awoke to a pounding on his door. He sleepily called out, "What?" and then realized that he must have fallen asleep while waiting for Charlie.

"Willy, let me in, I need to talk to you..." came Charlie's voice.

"The door is unlocked just come in," Willy said, sitting up and flinging his long legs over the side of his bed.

Charlie came in, closed the door, and walked over to where Willy sat, taking a seat beside him.

"Okay, I tried to give Chelsea back her sketches but she wouldn't open the door for me. I ended up just leaving them next to her door. She is still very upset, I could hear her sniffling. Anyway, now we need to make this right."

"Uh, and _how_ do you propose we do that Mr. Bucket?"

"We cure Violet Beauregarde."

"What? Why?"

"You can't be serious. Come on Willy! That's the main reason Chelsea is so upset right now. She wants you to cure Violet. And well… Violet looked so.. sad.. you know.. I mean.. didn't you feel bad when you saw that sketch of her?" Charlie looked at his mentor intently.

Willy pictured the sketch in his mind again. True, she did look very sad. But it was not his fault she was purple it was her own darned fault for just having to chew the gum. And it was not his fault she was still purple because he had had no idea that she really _was_ still purple until today. The Oompa Loompa testers had all eventually turned back to their normal color, so he figured that Violet had as well. That was the last thought he had given to the Beauregardes. Obviously there was something in the gum that reacted differently in little girls than it did in Oompa Loompas. But why did _he_ have to cure her? It was not his responsibility! He chose to just stare at Charlie until he would make it all make more sense.

Charlie signed and continued. "Look, you want Chelsea to talk to you again. In order to do this you have to make Chelsea happy. In order to make Chelsea happy you need to fix what she's upset about. In order to fix what she's upset about you need to cure Violet. If you fix Violet then Chelsea will be happy again and she might consider forgiving you."

"_Might_ _consider?_" Willy repeated worriedly.

"Well, you were a pretty big jerk. You're also going to have to be awfully nice to her as well and probably beg her forgiveness."

"Then she'll like me again?"

"Then she'll like you again."

And in the end, that one sentence was all it really took to make up Willy's mind.

"Okay, let's do it right now then," Willy said, obviously anxious to be in Chelsea's good favor as soon as possible.

"Do you have any ideas about how to create a cure for Violet?"

Willy thought about it for a few seconds. "Well, you know.. I bet if I just gave her an Ultra Strength Wonka-Vite her body might repair her skin and make it normal again, as well as anything else that's currently wrong with her; which I bet is_ a lot_.. her mother and her were nutty-wutters."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"Then we lock ourselves in the Inventing Room until we have invented something to make purple little …er… women not purple anymore; which is going to be quite difficult seeing as we'd have to test it on purple women until it worked."

"Right. Well let's hope the Wonka-Vite works then. Go grab one and we'll leave."

"Leave to where? We don't even know where Violet is," Willy said as he stood up.

"And we can't ask Chelsea seeing as she wont talk to either of us because of _you._ Hmm… do you have any connections with people who can find someone's location if you need it?" Charlie asked hopefully.

"What, do you think I'm a member of the Mafia or something?"

"Well.. no.. but.."

"Heh just kidding, I do actually have an idea. And it does have something to do with a connection. Anyway, _you_ go grab a Wonka-Vite, remember to get Ultra Strength, and I'll go locate our missing Smurfette. We'll meet at the entrance to the factory, kay?"

Charlie nodded.

They left Willy's room, each turning and heading in a different direction.

---

When Willy arrived at the factory entrance hall, Charlie was already there.

"Did you find her?"

"Yep!" Willy replied waggling a printed piece of paper.

"_How_ did you find her?"

"Simple really. I called Miss Cleo who also happened to be having tea with Sylvia Brown and they gave me a definite address…. After they predicted that I would die a tragic death in a ballerina accident, whatever _that_ means.. and something else about tiki statues and bald monkeys…." Willy trailed off in mock thought.

Charlie's jaw dropped and he simply stared at Willy until Willy could not take it any longer and laughed aloud.

"Well okay _fine_, see I have this program where all I have to do is put in someone's name and then I basically get their entire life story as well as information like where they are currently located."

"I thought you said you had a connection."

"Disappointed? Well don't be. I _got_ the program from a .._friend_ in the F.B.I. It doesn't show where _everyone_ is but it does show anyone who was or is currently a United States citizen."

"Oh. Um, why would he give you that program?"

Willy fidgeted with his jacket for a second before responding, "I actually bought it from him. I wanted it to try and locate my father a long time ago. If.. well I thought he'd maybe moved to the U.S. because he used to talk about moving there."

Charlie simply nodded.

"Well where is Violet at now?"

Willy's face fell a bit at this question. When he had found out himself he was surprised to feel a surge of guilt and pity erupt inside of him.

"She is currently a patient in a mental facility called," he glanced down at the paper, "Willow Brooke… in Georgia."

"Wow. How are we gonna get there?"

"Well I thought we might consider taking my jet."

"…"

"_What?_"

"You have a _jet_?!"

"Who doesn't?"

"Um… all but probably less than one or two percent of the world's population."

"Well too bad for them, they're really missing out. How do they ever go places far away in a timely manner?"

Charlie just sighed and shrugged off the stupid question. "Okay, so is your jet ready? I have the Wonka-Vite."

"Yep. My driver will take us to the airport where they keep my beautiful jet all safe and shiny."

"Willy, shut up."

"It's maroon too!"

"Willy, _please_ shut up."

"Kay."

---

Meanwhile, Chelsea was finished unpacking but having second thoughts about having finished unpacking. She did not know if she wanted to stay in the factory anymore or if Willy would even want her to now that she had gone off and slapped him. Oh and threw her sketch pad at his face. Oh right, _and_ slammed the door in the very same face that had just been assaulted. She began crying anew from reminding herself of what had happened earlier that day. She knew that she was still very upset with Willy and that he deserved what she had done. The thing that kept her eyes from completely drying was something that she hated to admit; she hoped that Willy was not mad enough at her to force her to leave the factory. She was far too scared to leave. She had nowhere else to go. And, most annoyingly, despite the fact that he had hurt her and had become quite the bastard just recently, she knew that she would miss him very much if she were forced to leave. Every time she admitted that last part to herself it brought on a fresh onslaught of tears because it was that thought that frightened her the most.

Oh please don't let him hate me…

---

When Willy and Charlie finally made it to Willow Brooke Facilities, they immediately encountered a problem. The lady who answered the buzzer call at the gate said that only relatives were allowed to visit the patients so unless they had written or verbal permission or a relative with them who said they could see her, they would not be allowed to visit Violet. Apparently they had taken Chelsea's status as an ex sibling as enough. They walked back away from the gate to discuss what their next step would be.

"We should have said we were related to her, but now they'll never believe that," Charlie said.

"We could always forge a note from Violet's _mother_," Willy said, making a nasty face.

"Wait, doesn't her mother live around here somewhere?" Charlie said hopefully. Willy did not like where this was going. That woman gave him the heebie-jeebies.

"I think so…" Willy said reluctantly.

"Well let's go find a phone book and give her a call, shall we?"

And so they did.

---

Two phone calls later, Willy and Charlie were finally allowed to go in and visit Violet. After explaining their reason for the visit to her mother she was happy enough to give Willow Brooke a call and insist that they let both men in to see her daughter, as well as letting Willy give her his supposed cure. Her mother figured, and voiced this opinion, that she really had nothing to lose seeing as she had already began to consider Violet as dead since she had been _gone_ for so long. And that the worst that could happen would be that Violet would die and considering her daughter would rather be dead than purple then what the heck. Willy thought these opinions were very rude and cold hearted. After all, she could go and _visit_ her daughter once in a while. The nasty woman!

After ridding themselves of anything potentially harmful to the patient, as was procedure, Willy and Charlie were led do Violet's _room._ Upon entering they found Miss Beauregarde lying on her back on the floor, next to the far wall. Her side was facing them. The door was shut behind them and then Charlie cleared his throat noisily while Willy attempted to make himself short enough to successfully hide behind him. Willy was not certain if Violet hated him as much as her mother used to after her daughter's mishap. Violet started at the sound and turned her head sideways to look at them; then shot up to a sitting position and hopped to her feet faster than should have been possible. Both men took cautious steps backwards.

"Mr. Wonka?" Violet asked, the shock in her small voice very apparent.

"Y..yes.. uhm.. hi!" Willy said from behind Charlie. Charlie stepped to the side, removing Willy's human shield. Willy straightened up but said nothing more.

"What are you doing here?" Violet asked, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"We're here to see if we can fix you," Charlie said, approaching Violet slowly.

"Are you Charlie Bucket?"

"Yep!" Charlie extended his hand in greeting. Violet cautiously shook it and then returned her attention to Willy.

"You've made me a cure?"

"Well…_no_ but I will try to if this doesn't work. I've brought an Ultra Strength Wonka-Vite. If all goes to plan it should get your body to repair itself which should return you to your normal color…among _other_ things," Willy responded.

"What _kinds_ of _other things_? Are you gonna accidentally turn me _pink_ this time?" Violet said, partially teasing.

"Wallabies no… I mean.. I certainly _hope_ not.. although pink is slightly closer to a normal human pigment than purple.. but…"

"I was _joking _Mr. Wonka. But really, what did you mean by other things? Nothing harmful I hope," Violet's suicidal tendencies had curbed quite some time ago. She did not really care one way or another if she died but had more recently come to believe, especially since Chelsea's surprise visit, that living was somewhat preferable to the dark abyss that death might entail.

"Nope. Ultra Strength Wonka-Vites are like a super duper potent cocktail of different things like medications and vitamins. It even has a super smart sedative so that if what the Wonka-Vite is fixing takes time or is painful, the person who took it will sleep through the process!" Willy finished excitedly.

"A cocktail of _medications_?! Isn't that dangerous?" Violet looked alarmed and then was even more alarmed when Charlie did as well. They both looked at Willy with wide eyes.

"Well…" Willy wrung his hands a bit and then looked down and proceeded to pick imaginary lint off of his clothing as he continued, "see.. there are .. _secret_ ingredients that tell the Wonka-Vite which specific things the person taking it needs the most and then those things are released while the others just pass thorough. Its.. _extremely_ complicated, not to mention top secret. I'd have to kill you if I told you exactly how it worked," he finished with what he hoped was a serious look. He did realize that mentioning murdering a patient who possibly wanted to be dead was a bit awkward but did not catch his slip in time to correct himself.

"If its that powerful then why hasn't the government or someone bought the recipe from you and released it as a cure all miracle pill? I mean… if it does everything you say it does then it would be _very_ popular," Violet pointed out.

"People are afraid of things that they cannot explain," was Willy's cryptic response.

"More like afraid of what _you_ are unwilling to explain for monetary reasons," Violet said, smirking.

Willy just crossed his arms over his chest and gave her an annoyed look.

"Well.. I ….it can't really_ hurt_ so I may as well try it.. but um, why are you doing this now?" Violet asked.

Charlie and Willy exchanged glances. Charlie wanted Willy to talk and Willy could not really think of anything to tell her except for the truth.

"Chelsea," Willy began.

"You mean she really talked you into curing me somehow?" Violet's eyes were wide.

"Well not exactly. See, she …we.. well we're _friends_ now and um.. well she is sad and I want to do this to make her happy again," Willy struggled lamely.

"So you're not doing this out of the kindness of your heart?" Violet said, hands on hips. She was really only trying to give him a hard time. She could tell by his previous statement that he must think very highly of Chelsea. If he liked Chelsea then he was alright by her.

Willy shifted from foot to foot nervously. "Um.. well.. honestly all this time I thought that you had turned back to normal because the Oompa Loompa's who turned purple had. And, uhm, Chelsea told me you were still purple and .. well at first I didn't really care because I.. I still remembered how you acted as a child and what your m-mother had done to my office and how she creeped me out but then I saw a sketch Chelsea did of you and you just looked so sad and I want Chelsea to be happy so now I guess I _do_ want you _both_ to be happy…." he trailed off and looked down at his feet.

"Thank you," Violet said as she walked over to Willy and took one of his gloved hands in her own. She gave his hand a little squeeze and then let go and backed away, remembering his aversion to touch. "So, got the magical mystery pill?"

Charlie held it out to her and she unwrapped it and ate it. Charlie and Willy watched her closely. For the first few minutes nothing happened. After about fifteen minutes of standing there in awkward silence they started to notice some changes. Her hair was the first to change. It went from a dull purple to shiny golden color. Charlie reached forward and took some of her long hair in his hand and held it up so she could see it. She smiled and then sniffled and then started to cry. Suddenly Willy exclaimed, "Look!" She was almost back to normal. The purple was fading rapidly now. After a few more minutes in which Willy and Charlie just stood there watching Violet with their mouths slightly open in amazement, the only thing that had yet to return to normal were her eyes. They resembled Willy's eyes.

"The only things left are your eyes!" Willy exclaimed.

"Go ask the attendant for a mirror, would you Charlie?" Violet asked.

"Sure."

When the rubber encased safety-mirror arrived and was handed to Violet she let out a shriek of pure joy. Then she threw herself first at Charlie and then at Willy for big bear hugs. Willy stiffened but was also happy that she was normal again so he patted her back anxiously.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!" She exclaimed, hopping up and down happily. Obviously something more than just her coloration had been improved.

At that moment it occurred to Willy that he did not know what to do now that he had cured Violet.

"Erm.. Charlie?" He said, stepping away from the explosively happy woman in front of him

"Yeah?" Charlie said, smiling.

"What do we do _now._"

"Oh.. umm.." Charlie became thoughtful for a moment and then continued, "Hey Violet, do you think your mom would let you leave this place?"

Violet stopped moving and looked at him strangely for a second before saying, "I don't know…"

Willy thought about it and then said, "Wait, how old are you?"

"I'm.." she actually had to think about it for a few seconds, "I.. I'm nineteen.. yeah. Why?"

"Well you're over eighteen; doesn't that mean you can check yourself out if you like pass a test or something proving you're okay now?" Willy continued.

"Um, well.. I don't know. I suppose I could ask my doctor."

"Well _ask_!" Willy was obviously in a hurry. He wanted to get Violet back to the factory to show Chelsea what he had done. He wanted Chelsea happy again.

Violet walked to the door and pressed the button that called the attendant. He opened the door and looked at her questioningly.

"Look! Mr. Wonka cured me! I … well.. I need to talk to Dr. Chase, okay?"

The man at the door did seem interested in her lack of purple skin. He looked her over a few times before nodding and closing the door. When he returned the doctor was with him.

"Ah, Miss Beauregarde," the doctor began but quickly ceased talking when he noticed the fact that she was no longer purple.

"See! Mr. Wonka cured me! Well.. I was only in this place because," she looked over her shoulder at Willy and Charlie and then lowered her voice so, hopefully, only the doctor could hear her. "Because I kept trying to.. well.. you _know_.. but it was because I was so depressed about being an outcast.. so.." she paused and looked at her hands for a second and then back up at the doctor, "I.. I want to leave now.. I want to live a real life...I want to be normal. May I leave?"

The doctor looked at her for a while. He was completely silent but taking in everything about her. After about two full minutes of everyone looking at the doctor and him studying Violet he finally nodded in the affirmative. "Miss Beauregarde, I believe you when you say you're ready to live a normal life. It was obvious that the main reason for your _stay_ here was your unfortunate accident and now that the symptom is gone I think you will be alright," he stopped talking as Violet had thrown herself at him for a quick hug.

"Thank you!" She exclaimed as she released him.

"…Violet… we can't just simply let you go I'm afraid," the doctor continued. Violet's face fell then. So did Willy's.

"Why not?" Violet and Willy asked in unison, looking at each other and then back at the doctor.

"We need to be absolutely sure that you are no longer a danger to yourself or to others. We need to run some tests and observe you for a while. There is a three week probationary period in which we will determine whether or not you are really fit to be released. Do you understand?"

Violet thought about it for a second and then nodded. She should have realized that they could not just let her go; she just got too caught up in the moment. Three weeks really was nothing considering how long she had already been there.

"Alright, start your tests; I wanna leave as soon as possible. No offence but I'm sorta sick of this place," Violet said. She was not; after all, like most of the other patients who were completely insane and hardly even realized that they were trapped in a medical facility.

She still saw the value of freedom.

"Sure thing. We will start your tests and observation period first thing tomorrow morning. After the three weeks are up, if you are okayed to leave and still wish to be discharged then we will have someone come to pick you up. Because of your status as a patient of a mental facility you will, despite your age, need to be released into the custody of an adult relative or appointed guardian for another probationary period so that your rehabilitation and reentrance into society can be closely monitored. If that is all for today, gentlemen, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Miss Beauregarde has had enough excitement for one afternoon I think," the doctor opened the door and held it open for Willy and Charlie. They both nodded to Violet, who smiled at them, and then they left.

Once outside Willow Brooke, Willy turned to Charlie with a slightly panicked look on his face.

"Charlie, what am I gonna do _now_? I was supposed to have Violet there so that Chelsea would be able to _see_ what I'd done and then be happy again! No Violet, no happy! Do you think she'll believe me if I just tell her I cured Violet?"

"I don't really know Willy. Its hard to say. She seemed very upset with you. I think you're going to have to worry about getting her to _talk_ to you before worrying about whether or not she'll even believe anything that you _say._"

"Well poo," was all Willy said after that. He did not know anything about friendship or fighting or…_women_. How does one go about getting a justly peeved woman friend to talk to them again? This was a problem he needed to figure out on the double. Maybe something would come to him on the flight home.


	17. If I Wrote you a Symphony

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 17: If I Wrote you a Symphony

By the time Willy and Charlie had arrived back at the factory Willy was no closer to having thought of a solution to his current problem than when he had left the facility empty handed. He had gone through numerous half-wit plans in his head and even shared some of them with Charlie, but all of them seemed either far too complicated or far too unlikely to actually work. When he finally gave up and asked Charlie if he could think of a plan, Charlie just said that this was something Willy himself had to do without anyone's help.

They were eating breakfast at Charlie's house when Willy got another idea. It went against what Charlie had told him but he did not really care. He needed all the help he could get. After finishing his cup of tea and making certain that Charlie was engrossed in a discussion with his father, Willy located Charlie's mother and waited until she was by herself before getting up and making his way over to her.

"Uhh… Mrs. Bucket, can I ask you something?" Willy asked, looking around nervously to see if anyone was eavesdropping.

"Sure Willy, what is it?" She was putting away some dishes so he took her side and started helping while he continued. He was putting every dish in random spots around the kitchen but Mrs. Bucket only smiled and resolved to put them in their proper locations later.

"I.. well.. I said some ..uhh.. I guess _mean_ things to Chelsea and now she's so mad at me that she won't even talk to me _or_ Charlie. Is there anything I can do to make her want to talk to me again?"

Mrs. Bucket grinned and then turned to face Willy. "What _kinds_ of mean things did you say exactly?"

Willy nearly dropped the plate he was holding, but sat it down carefully. "Well…I guess I didn't pay enough attention to her feelings when she was upset about something. And.. um, I _may_ have called her ex step sister whom I wasn't aware she actually _cared_ about," he paused to think and then sucked in a breath, "a no good, prissy, meanie, little chit, who is probably just as nasty as her mother." Willy had a very good memory.

Mrs. Bucket raised her eyebrows and then looked away to hide her smile. Willy was so naively rude sometimes. Poor lad. "Oh Willy.. how did Chelsea react to all of this?"

"She slapped me. Then pushed me out of her room and then threw her drawing book at my face. Oh and then slammed the door in my face too. She was crying as well… I.. oh ..I just don't know what to do!" Willy looked as though he were about to start crying himself.

Mrs. Bucket contemplated Willy's frantic state before asserting, "You _really_ care about her don't you?"

Willy's face changed from an expression of frustration and anxiety to one of confusion and then resolution. His nod was almost imperceptible. "I do," he said under his breath, looking down.

Mrs. Bucket put a hand over her heart and sighed. Young love was so sweet. "Listen, go and talk to her. If she won't let you into her room then sit outside of her door. If you can hear her she can hear you. Tell her that you're sorry. Tell her how you feel and what you want. Ask her how she feels and what she wants. She'll come around eventually."

Willy hesitated a moment before doing something he had never done before. He leaned forward awkwardly and pulled Mrs. Bucket into a quick but firm hug. "Thank you," he said, just before releasing her. He grabbed his coat, cane, and hat, bid everyone good day and left.

Mrs. Bucket smiled to herself as she finished relocating the dishes. Chelsea was a very lucky woman to have such a fine young man after her heart.

---

When Willy arrived at Chelsea's room he leaned quietly against the door, with his ear pressed to it, trying to hear if Chelsea was awake or not. He did not hear anything. Worry getting the better of him he began speaking before he had actually thought through anything he should say.

"Ch-Chelsea? Are you in there?" He said rather weakly. He heard a small intake of breath from somewhere near the door, but she said nothing. "I.. n..need to talk to you.." He waited for a response; none came. "_Please_!" He turned around and put his back against the door and slid down it, coming to rest on the floor. She heard the noise and recognized what he had done. She was sitting against the wall in a similar fashion to the side of the door. "Look, I..I'm so sorry. I .. I didn't mean to hurt you. Please talk to me again," Willy said slowly, his voice cracking somewhat. He felt like he could cry again but did not want to do so where she could hear him.

"You mean it?" Chelsea replied quietly, mentally cursing herself for giving in so easily.

"Of course! I would never intentionally hurt you. I.. I didn't know what I was doing. I should have thought more and talked less.." he trailed off. A few seconds later with no response from her he added, "I really miss you."

"It's only been a day and a half Willy," she said, almost laughing. In actuality she felt the same way that he did.

"So? I miss you if I don't see you for even a second," he covered his mouth with his hand. Was he being _too_ honest?

Chelsea felt the tears spring to her eyes once again. He did not hate her! "Oh Willy… I'm sorry too.. I should never have slapped you or .. _anything_. I should have just told you that you had upset me and asked you to leave or something."

"It's alright. I'm not mad that you slapped me. Or that you threw your sketch pad at me. Oh, some of your sketches are still sitting here by the door," he said, reaching over and picking them up. She reached up and turned the door knob and let the door open inwards about four inches. Willy was not prepared for this and fell back abruptly. He would have caused the door to swing completely open and landed on his back if her knee had not stopped it from opening more than the few inches. She was sitting cross legged. They both turned their heads to look at each other. She held out her hand and he turned the sketches sideways handing them to her through the opening in the door. She accepted them and laid them on the floor on the other side of her. She looked down at the top sketch of Violet for a few seconds before she startled slightly when a purple gloved hand came into view. He had reached his arm through the gap in the door and around her front and rested his hand on her cheek that was farthest from him. He turned her head gently so that she was facing him again. She looked at him questioningly for a second before breaking their eye contact and looking down. A tear escaped the eye next to his hand and he moved his thumb to wipe it away.

"Please don't cry," he said sadly.

Chelsea sniffled and returned her gaze to him. "S..sorry.. I can't seem to help it." She smiled a small smile at him. What had started as tears of sorrow over thoughts of Violet had transformed into happy tears brought on by Willy's gentle touch.

Willy moved his thumb again, this time tracing her bottom lip with a feather light touch. Chelsea closed her eyes and turned her head slightly to nestle into his hand. Willy passed his thumb over her lip once more before moving his hand to her neck, then to her shoulder and letting his fingers flit lightly down her arm until he found her hand in her lap. He enclosed her hand in his and sighed audibly. He closed his eyes as well, took off his hat with his free hand, and leaned his head back against the door. After a few minutes of blissful silence he said in a whisper, "Please don't ever not talk to me again, I felt like I would die." She squeezed his hand.

"I will never ever stop talking to you again, I promise," she said. They both opened their eyes and looked back at each other. Then they both smiled shyly.

"Are we okay now? I mean.. is everything back to normal?" Willy asked.

"I suppose so. I have to tell you, I'm positively _starving_! I haven't left this room since ..well you know.." She replied.

Willy looked worried at first and then smiled. He released her hand and stood up. "Well come on! Lets go get you something to put in that tum tummy of yours! Notice this time I did _not_ call you a muffin," he nodded at her as she stood up, opening the door fully.

"You called me a _muffin_?" She asked, giggling.

"Um, nope! Lets go!" He grabbed her hand again and pulled her out into the hall. He closed the door and then led her to the elevator. He was so happy that she was talking to him again.

"_When_ did you call me a _muffin_?" She insisted. She thought it was funny.

"Yesterday. Um, … Actually I don't know _why_ I called you a muffin. Yeah," he glanced over at her and then pressed a button on the elevator. She slammed into him as was usual for her when the elevator first started. She could never brace herself correctly because she never knew which way the elevator would choose to go. Not that either of them minded. She stepped in front of him, leaned back against his chest, grabbed his arms and brought them over her shoulders, crossing them over her chest as if they were a scarf. She held on to each of his crossed hands with her own uncrossed hands. He was still holding onto his cane so it dangled down the front of her body. She moved to the side a little and looked back to see if he minded what she was doing but only found him smiling at her happily. He was finally getting used to touching her.

"Willy?" She said suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"You may call me _muffin_ any time you like!" Then she looked away and broke into a fit of giggles. This sudden jiggling caused by her laughter made Willy become aware in a whole new way of how physically close she was to him. His face flushed and he tensed up, backing away from her slightly. She really did strange things to him.

He craned his neck forward and turned his head until his lips were very close to her ear. In barely a whisper he murmured the word, "_muffin_..." His hot breath on her neck caused goose bumps to rise. Surprising even himself he did not pull back immediately but found that he might rather like to kiss everywhere that the goose bumps had just arisen. What! _Kiss_? He blinked several times and then straightened up. Before he could properly think about those crazy urges that he kept getting, the elevator stopped. They had returned to the Chocolate Room. Willy was hoping that the Buckets would consider having an early lunch. It had been a while since breakfast because they had been enjoying each other's company for quite some time while they were holding hands through the door. But whether enough time had passed Willy did not know. He did know, however, that Mrs. Bucket would cook something up for Chelsea if he asked. She was such a nice mum.

As they crossed the land bridge over the chocolate river, Chelsea paused to watch some Oompa Loompas at work. They appeared to be popping giant bubbles of milk over the river with chocolate darts. Chelsea had never in her life seen such strange things as she had here in Willy's factory. She released Willy's hand and bent to tie her shoe. As she stood back up she lost balance and let out an ear piercing shriek. Then she promptly fell into the chocolaty depths beneath the land bridge. Charlie and his mother and father came running out of their home just in time to see Willy diving head first into the river. He had tossed off his hat and dropped his cane and dove right in. He had no desire to have Chelsea sucked up the fudge tube, even though she would fit a lot easier through it than that Gloop boy had. Charlie could hardly believe his eyes. Willy was _in_ the very river that he never wanted humans to ever touch. Charlie and his mother and father ran to the bank and watched as Willy towed a floundering Chelsea over to where they stood. It was, after all, quite difficult to swim in chocolate as it was most certainly not as fluid as water. Charlie helped them ashore.

"Oh my… how did _this_ happen?" Mrs. Bucked asked worriedly.

"I lost my balance and fell," Chelsea said, panting and wiping chocolate away from her eyes. Willy was currently doing the same.

"I'll go get you two some towels so you can clean up enough to get to a shower safely," Mrs. Bucket said, hurrying off. After asking both of them if they were alright, Charlie and his father followed Mrs. Bucket back to their house.

Willy put his face in his hands.

"I'm so sorry.. I know no one is supposed to contaminate the chocolate. It was an accident…" Chelsea began, watching Willy with growing anxiety. "I'll… I'll be much more careful next time.." she was starting to panic because he had said nothing since pulling her from the river.

He signed and lifted his head. "Its not _that_.. you could have been _hurt…_ oh man.. you almost gave me a heart attack!" Willy attempting to run a hand through his sticky hair. Chelsea smiled and scooted closer to him.

"I didn't mean to frighten you. Believe me, your chocolate is _good_ but not _that good_! It's not like I _wanted_ to go for a swim," She said, laughing a little. Willy did not seem to find that funny. She got onto her knees next to where he was seated and decided that perhaps she ought to try and cheer him up a bit. Mischievousness getting the better of her, or perhaps the strong chocolate fumes, she leaned over and made a big show of giving his check a good sniffing before doing something that even she was not adequately prepared for; licking him from his jaw to the top of his cheekbone. His eyes grew wide. "Mmmm… okay, maybe your chocolate _is_ that good," she said quietly.

Mrs. Bucket and Charlie were approaching with the towels when Mrs. Bucket flung her arm out suddenly stopping Charlie from walking further.

"Wha..?" he began.

"Shhh… _look_," she said, pointing at the couple on the bank. This was right after Chelsea had licked Willy so it appeared as though she was whispering in his ear. Mrs. Bucket decided that perhaps they should take a little walk around the Chocolate Room before bringing them their towels. She grabbed Charlie's arm and led him away. He only raised his eyebrows before obediently allowing himself to be led.

Willy was having some problems functioning at the moment. He could not convince his lungs to breathe correctly, nor could he seem to swallow. Chelsea had just _licked_ him for cricket's sake! His whole body grew warm and he found an abundance of those strange urges attacking him all at once. "I-is it?" he replied to her comment shakily.

She nodded, allowing her already chocolate covered nose to trace a line back down his cheek. What Willy did not know was that her body was having a similar reaction. The difference between the two was that Chelsea knew exactly what all of these emotions meant and had very recently decided resisting them would be an enormous waste of time and energy. She doubled her boldness by nipping at his jaw, gently scraping the chocolate there away with her front teeth. Willy closed his eyes and managed to swallow with much difficulty. Chelsea did not know if Willy liked her the same way that she liked him, but this was a surefire way to find out real quick. She moved her attention to his neck, kissing and licking around until she heard him emit a low moan in his throat. She decided that he certainly _seemed_ like he did in fact like her the way that she liked him. She lifted her head and was just about to try and give him a real kiss when she caught sight of Charlie and his mother walking through some candy trees near by. She flushed a bit and moved away from Willy. He opened his eyes and looked at her in a way that she had yet to see him look at her before. Lust was plainly visible in his heavy lidded gaze. It sent a thrill down her spine. He looked as though he was keen on getting a taste of his own until she hastily stood up and called out to the Buckets.

"You've got those towels?" She shouted. She did not want to be observed during her first real kiss with Willy. Mrs. Bucket nodded and they approached. She handed Chelsea the towels who in turn handed some of them to Willy. He appeared to have gotten himself under control. He accepted the towels and started wiping chocolate off of his clothing. Chelsea focused on trying to get as much of it out of her hair as possible. As they made themselves clean enough to not track chocolate all over the factory Charlie spoke.

"So.. you tell Chelsea about Violet?" He said to Willy. Willy jumped slightly and whipped his head around to look at Chelsea.

"What _about_ her?" Chelsea said curiously.

"Uhh.. I… umm.. well.. I've decided to try and make her a cure! It will probably take a few weeks though," he lied. Charlie gave him a funny look but said nothing. Chelsea exploded.

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" She exclaimed repeatedly. Between each word of thanks she gave Willy a peck on a cheek alternating as well. Willy blushed, Charlie looked away and laughed quietly, and Mrs. Bucket only smiled. When Chelsea regained control of her excitement she stepped away from Willy and remembered that the Bucket's were watching and blushed.

"But don't tell Violet, kay? I want it to be a surprise. As a matter of fact.. you should just wait to talk to her until I've created it so that she'll be even more surprised!" Willy exclaimed.

"Alright! Oh.. I just can't wait! I'm so happy Willy… you are the best!" She hopped up and down happily then remembered she was very sticky. "Oh.. well I'm going to go take a shower. Wanna drop me off at my room?" She asked Willy.

"No… I've got to talk to the Oompa Loompa's real fast. You go ahead. I'll see you in a little while. Maybe then Mrs. Bucket will have cooked something super scrumptious for lunch?" Willy said, glancing at Mrs. Bucket. She nodded affirmatively. He had lied about having to talk to the Oompa Loompas because he knew Charlie would want to speak with him about what he had just said to Chelsea concerning Violet.

"Okay, I'll be back here in a few. Bye!" And Chelsea skipped away gleefully.

When she was out of earshot Charlie turned to Willy. "You're going to _make_ Violet a cure? Why didn't you tell her she's already _been_ cured?"

"Well.. I ..I don't know. I guess I'll just have it be a big surprise," Willy replied.

"Well, now you're lying to her," Mrs. Bucket pointed out.

Willy looked alarmed. "D..do you think she'll be mad at me when she finds out I lied even though it was to surprise her?"

Charlie looked to his mother as well. She would know better than either he or Willy.

"No, I think she'll be very happy that you cured Violet. She won't be mad at you hon. Now, go get washed up and come back here for some lunch, okay?"

Willy smiled, nodded, and left for a nice long shower. It was going to take quite a scrubbing to get all of the chocolate out of his hair.

Ew.


	18. His Pretty Little Souped Up 4Wheel Drive

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 18: His Pretty Little Souped Up 4-Wheel Drive

Lunch at the Bucket house the day of the river incident was a pleasant enough affair. Mrs. Bucket had made a variety platter of small sandwiches, set out some fruits and vegetables, and baked some blueberry muffins because she knew how much Willy enjoyed them as an addition to any meal.

After eating, Willy, Charlie, and Chelsea decided to play Charades. Actually, Chelsea wanted to play and Charlie and Willy had never played before so they said that they would give it a try.

Chelsea had the rest of Charlie's family write down the names of animals, actions, and movies and the like on little bits of paper and then she took Willy's top hat off of the hook by the door and put all the little papers in it. Only when she sat the hat down on the table in front of the boys did she tell them the object of the game.

"Okay, so whoever's turn it is grabs out a little piece of paper from the hat. They secretly read it and then put it in their pocket or something. Now, you start _silently _acting out your word. For example, if I drew um… say… dog, I would get down on my hands and knees like so," she did, "and probably walk around and pant and maybe come sit in front of you and lift my hand as if I were wanting to shake or something." She stood up. "You guys try to guess what it is I am acting out. Whoever guesses correctly gets the point for that round and then it's their turn to draw a paper. You can't point to things or make any sounds, alright? It's pretty easy. Ready?"

The boys, Willy especially, were looking like they had made a very bad decision in letting Chelsea choose the game. They both glanced at each other and shrugged; too late now. The Bucket's were all watching too, how embarrassing.

"You go ahead and go first Chelsea," Charlie said, pushing the hat towards her. She smiled and chose a piece of paper. She read it using one of her hands as a shield so the guys could not see and then refolded it and put it in her pocket. It said chicken. She rather thought that she would have liked to see Willy try and do this one. It would have been very humorous.

"Okay, here I go," she said. Then she stood up, not to her full height. She deliberately hunched over slightly and crooked her arms into the typical chicken dance wing shape. She had just started flapping and scratched the floor with her feet when Charlie yelled out,

"Chicken!"

"Yep! Good job!" She replied. Charlie drew his first word and Chelsea took his seat on the couch next to Willy, who smiled at her then returned his gaze to Charlie.

Charlie started acting out his word without preamble. He lay down on the floor and started moving in a way that could really only be described as attempted slithering. Willy figured this out while Chelsea was trying to control her laughter.

"You're a snake, right?" He asked uncertainly. Charlie nodded gratefully and got up, glaring at the still giggling Chelsea. She quickly controlled her laughter and pushed the hat over in front of Willy. He looked at it as if it were a germ filled bomb. He reached in with all the air of a person who had to grab something out of a jar of cockroaches. Chelsea and Charlie laughed at his dramatics. He stood and walked away from them and unfolded his slip of paper, then he glared at Charlie's family and they all broke out in hysterical laughter. Apparently this was one they had deliberately put in with the hopes that Willy would draw it. Urgh. Willy crumpled the little piece of paper into a tiny ball and flicked it over Charlie and Chelsea's heads at the rest of the Buckets. This only increased their laughter. He just stood there for a few seconds and kept looking at his hat. He really had no idea how he was going to pull this one off without the help of his hat. Walking right to the center of the room he did something that he really had not done in a long time; he began dancing. The first thing he did was twirl but that alone did not elicit any guesses from Charlie or Chelsea. So, sighing dramatically, he twirled once more, performed a spot on moonwalk, and then twirled again and sprang to his tip toes at the end. Chelsea leapt up and shouted excitedly,

"Michael Jackson! Yeah!" Willy nodded yes and was surprised when the entire room decided to give him a standing ovation. He blushed and sat back down on the couch. Just as Chelsea was reaching into the hat for her next word both Willy and Charlie's watches began screeching at them. Chelsea and the rest of the Bucket's all looked at them curiously as they turned off the noise and opened up the watches to reveal tiny screens. After reading whatever it was that the screen said they both sprang to their feet looking alarmed.

"What is it?" Mrs. Bucket asked.

"It's the Oompa Loompa's. There's been an accident in the Inventing Room," Charlie said.

"Again!?" Chelsea said.

"Always. Don't worry; I don't think anyone was harmed this time. But we need to dash! Gotta help them salvage things," Willy said hurriedly.

"Can I help?" Chelsea asked.

"I … well.. we were gonna get to work on that cure tonight so we'll be there for _ages_. You may as well just enjoy yourself here or draw or do something less boring. Come on Charlie!" Willy exclaimed that last bit, grabbing Charlie's arm and leading him toward the door. Charlie gave everyone a little wave before he disappeared.

Chelsea felt a little confused and left out, but she was happy that they were going to begin working on Violet's cure so resolved to give them whatever space that they needed.

"Would you like to read aloud to the Grandparents Chelsea?" Mrs. Bucket offered. Chelsea had begun doing that when Willy or Charlie or both were busy around the factory. Chelsea found that she enjoyed reading aloud, as long as Grandpa George did not cut in every three seconds with his own, usually unfriendly, remarks about whatever she was reading. He had gotten better about that, especially since one time she just sat the book down and left. He seemed to figure out that it was unappreciated after that.

"I'd love to!" Chelsea replied happily.

---

"Why didn't you want Chelsea to come? Are we actually going to have to stay away all night just to make her think that we're working on the _cure_?" Charlie asked, once they got to the elevator.

"We're staying away all night to actually _work_. You _do_ realize that Easter is coming up so we need to make something new and exciting, as always. And _yes_ I do want Chelsea to think that we are working on the cure."

"I still can't believe that you didn't just tell her."

"At first I just panicked because I really wanted Chelsea to _see_ Violet when she first finds out that we cured her. But the more I thought about it… the _cure_ could wear off or something. Three weeks is a fair period of time to see if the Wonka-Vite's affects will hold or not, don't you think?"

"Hmm… yeah I suppose so."

"Well if I'd told Chelsea that we had cured Violet and then in three weeks took her to see Violet and Violet _wasn't_ cured then how would that look?"

"I see your point."

"Well I _am_ a genius."

"Let me guess, you just don't always know when your brilliant mind is actually leading you in the right direction at first, is that it?"

"Yep!"

"It is hard to believe that your ego fits on this planet."

"Indeed."

"I can only hope to one day be as great as you are Willy."

"Of course. Good luck with that."

They both laughed the remaining distance to the Inventing Room.

---

The days flew by and Willy and Charlie worked diligently on everything except for curing Violet Beauregarde. Chelsea was blissfully unaware and everything was going as smooth as… something smooth.

"Ah ha!" Willy exclaimed one afternoon in the Inventing Room.

"We did it?" Charlie asked, approaching his mentor who was standing by a giant oven.

"It sure looks like we did. Go get Jacob and he'll try it for us."

Charlie went and got the designated Oompa Loompa. Willy held down the tray of little chocolate eggs and Jacob obediently took one and plopped it into his mouth. Nothing happened at first but they did receive two thumbs up for taste. After a few more seconds, however, their eye's lit up when Jacob sprouted white bunny ears out of the top of his head. Now they just needed to observe him and make sure that the ears fell off in the thirty minutes they were designed to.

Thirty minutes later, on the dot, the ears fell off and dissolved into nothing at Jacob's feet. The only test left was to try it on a human. Charlie volunteered. It worked like a charm and they all proceeded to skip around the Inventing Room happily.

"Little kidders are just gonna love these!" Willy said, as his own bunny ears dissolved.

"Yep, this is the coolest thing we've made in a while," was Charlie's response.

"Lets go show em' to Chelsea!" Willy exclaimed.

"Alright!"

---

They arrived at Charlie's house with a few samples of their new creation only to find that Chelsea was not there crocheting with Mrs. Bucket as they had left her.

"Where's Chelsea, Dad?" Charlie inquired.

"She went shopping in town with your mother. They needed more yarn or something like that," Mr. Bucket replied.

"Oh, okay."

"They should have been back by now actually… it's been quite some time."

Charlie and Willy exchanged worried glances.

"Why don't you boys sit down and I'll make you a cup of tea?" Mr. Bucket offered.

They sat down at the kitchen table.

---

Three cups of tea, one game of old maid, and a show of the bunny ear eggs on the Grandparents later and Chelsea and Mrs. Bucket finally returned.

Or just Mrs. Bucket.

A very upset and slightly shaking Mrs. Bucket.

"What's happened?" Willy said, standing up and rushing over to Mrs. Bucket. She made it to the couch before her knees buckled.

"Its Chelsea! She.. we were crossing the lot in front of the shopping center and this maniac _boy_ drove right into her! I saw him coming so I stopped walking and I _thought_ that Chelsea had saw him coming as well but she stepped out in front of him… oh.." Mrs. Bucket put her face in her hands for a second. Willy started shaking about as badly as she was.

"Is.. is shh..she o..okay?" Willy asked.

"No.. I mean… _yes_… but she's at the hospital. The paramedic said that he thought she just had a few broken bones an..and that she wasn't in critical condition but.. she looked so.." Mrs. Bucket burst into tears.

Willy looked as though he was about to start flipping out himself so Charlie stepped in.

"Which hospital?"

His mother regained control of herself enough to say, "Grace Memorial."

Charlie and Willy were out the door before anyone could even think Wonkadoodle.

---

They took the Royce to the Hospital. It was dark out so no one really paid them much notice. Willy, however, forgot to change his clothes so he stuck out like a sore thumb once they entered the hospital. Also, in his haste, he had forgotten to bring a Wonka-Vite. He doubted whether the doctors would let him get anywhere near her with his mystery pill anyway though.

"Which room is Chelsea Collins in?" Charlie asked the receptionist.

"Are you family?"

"Yes," both Charlie and Willy replied. The receptionist raised her eyebrows.

"Her cousins," Charlie added.

"_Alright_. Let me check. …Right, she's in room two hundred and thirteen. That's up one floor and on your left once you exit the elevator. Visiting hours are almost over so you'd better hurry. _If_ the doctor even lets you both in, she just got out of surgery."

Willy paled even more than his already chalky color. Charlie grabbed his arm and led him quickly to the elevator.

Once inside the elevator Willy muttered, "sur.. surgery?"

Charlie responded by pressing the button labeled two a dozen more times.

Ding.

They exited the elevator, turned left and stopped because they were face to face with a doctor.

"Are you the boys looking to visit Miss Collins?" He asked, giving Willy a very curious look.

"Yes. Is she alright?" Charlie asked. It was obvious that Willy could not speak at the moment.

"She's stable. Thankfully there were no serious head or back injuries. She sustained three broken ribs and a broken collar bone. She's very fortunate. Most people don't survive getting hit by a truck."

"Why was she in surgery?" Charlie asked.

"Her collar bone broke inward and ripped through a lot of tissue. We needed to get all of the splintered bones out before more damage was caused."

Willy gulped and resumed shaking. Charlie put a hand on his shoulder.

"May we see her? Is she awake?"

"You can go in but be quiet. We brought her out from being under but she's on morphine right now so she'll be drifting in and out of consciousness. She may also be slightly delirious for a while as well. She'll need her rest and," the doctor looked at his watch, "visiting hours are over in twenty minutes so make it quick."

"Will she be alright?" Charlie knew that Willy had to know. He had to know as well.

"She just needs to heal up is all. She'll be fine. Don't worry," the doctor said, turning and walking away from them.

They nodded and approached the room. Willy took a deep breath before following Charlie in.

Chelsea was lying on her back, propped up slightly on two super white pillows. She appeared to be sleeping. They quietly neared her bed. Willy had to sit in the chair next to the head of her bed because his legs refused to hold him any longer.

She looked fine except for a scratch on her forehead. Her body was covered by the blanket so they assumed that the bandages were all concealed. Giving no care to the fact that Charlie was standing right next to him, Willy reached out and brushed her hair back away from her face. Charlie looked at his mentor and what he saw almost made _him_ start to cry. The great Willy Wonka had tears openly falling down his face. Charlie put his hand back on Willy's shoulder and squeezed gently. Quietly he said, "It's alright. She's okay.. you heard the doctor.." but Willy cut him off.

"No! If it weren't for _me_ and my _stupid _lie then she would never have gotten hurt again!"

"What do you mean?"

"If I had just told her the truth then she would have been with _us_ and not out shopping with your mother! She would be fine.." he inhaled a shaky breath.

"No Willy.. don't do that to yourself. You were right to not get Chelsea's hopes up about Violet. If the Wonka-Vite wears off then she would have been very disappointed. And besides… you know that most nights when we're working late she likes to hang out at my house. She always does things with my mom and reads to my grandparents.."

"But I.."

"It is _not_ your fault. Now drop this stupidity and just be happy that she's alright.. okay?"

"…okay.. I'm sorry."

"Its alright. Look.. she's waking up.."

Willy looked over at Chelsea to find her staring blurrily back at him.

"Willy?" She said quietly.

"Yes.." he breathed, leaning in close to her.

"WhereamI?" She ran her words together. The morphine was affecting her speech.

"You're at the hospital. You were in an accident, but you're alright now.. and.. and you're going to be getting better before you know it..kay?" Willy said trying to wipe his tears away with the sleeve of his jacket.

"Kay. Will you make me better?"

"I.."

"You are a magician. You make everything better!" She exclaimed. Charlie and Willy looked at each other with raised eyebrows. The things pain medication did to people.

"When you get back to the factory I'll make you good as new, kay?" Willy said uncertainly.

"Kay. Kay," she said. She moved her arm out from under the covers and reached for Charlie.

"Charlie's here too?" She said looking right at him.

Charlie smiled. "Yes, I'm here too. But.. we have to go so you can get some rest, okay?"

"Okay Charlie. Sorry for my dad screaming at you. He yells a lot. But you got my number. Why'd you never call me? Didn't you like me?" She grabbed Charlie's hand and pulled him closer. Willy furrowed his brow.

"I.. I.. well.. um.." Charlie stuttered.

"You um umm.. yes. But you like me too? I don't know if boys ask for girl's numbers when they don't like them," she persisted.

"I've always liked you Chelsea," Charlie said, glancing at Willy who was looking at him oddly. "But I like you as a friend now. I did like you when I first met you but now you're like my new sister, okay?" Charlie knew that he was explaining this all for Willy's benefit as Chelsea would doubtfully ever remember any of this conversation.

"I like being a sister. You're my new brother and you are Willy," she released Charlie's hand and pointed at them each in turn. "I like Willy. But he never asked for my phone number," she pouted a bit.

"I never got the chance!" Willy cut in.

"Willy.. I think we should let her rest now," Charlie said looking at his watch, "we only have like three minutes left anyway."

"Willy dilly silly.. heh heh.. ask me for my number!" Chelsea said quietly, it looked like she had just got another bit of morphine.

"What's your number beautiful?" Willy said, smiling at her.

"Two, for me and you!" Chelsea said, giggling. Willy's smile widened and then a nurse came in.

"Excuse me gentlemen but visiting hours are now over."

Willy and Charlie stood up to leave.

"I will see my brother and my Willy tomorrow?" Chelsea asked.

"Yes," they both answered in unison. They each smiled at her and then allowed the nurse to usher them out of the room.

---

Once back in the car Charlie turned to Willy.

"You called her beautiful," he stated with a smile on his face.

"Maybe," Willy replied, not meeting his gaze.

"You should do that some time when she'll actually remember it."

"Yeah…" Willy said, sighing.

"You can tell her that she's beautiful Willy. Don't hold anything back from her.. she deserves better."

Willy met Charlie's gaze then. "I know. I won't hold back," he said very seriously.

"Good. After all, her number is _two_ for _her_ and _you_," Charlie said, and they both laughed quietly.

Willy smiled to himself as he watched the colorful lights whizzing by outside of the car window.

_Two_.


	19. The Healing Process

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 19: The Healing Process

The next day, Willy and Charlie were at the hospital well before visiting hours started. They sat in the waiting room eliciting very curious looks from the other patients. Willy had decided that he really did not care if people knew who he was. Bugger them.

Charlie was thumbing through a sports magazine and Willy was eyeing it with obvious distaste. Something he was unaware that he had in common with his father. They had been doing precisely this for over an hour before Chelsea's doctor approached them.

"Excuse me Gentlemen, I have some news regarding Miss Collins," he said in a very business like manner. Charlie and Willy both stood up.

"Yes?" Willy said. Today he had found his voice.

"She had to be taken back to surgery again early this morning. She was internally bleeding. We had not caught it at first but it became apparent later. We've stopped the bleeding and she's resting," the doctor said, looking as though he were bracing himself for what he knew was coming.

"It became apparent _later_?" Willy spat. He was not happy at all. He was gripping his cane so hard that Charlie thought it might crack.

"I apologize, Mr….Wonka?" He guessed based on observation. It was pretty obvious. "Sometimes after an accident when we are stabilizing a patient who is already bleeding from several different internal wounds, her splintered collar bone for example, other internal bleeding is not as apparent. This is why we perform routine scans and check ups to make sure that we catch anything we may have missed. Now, Miss Collins is fine. She'll have to stay in the hospital for a few days, possibly a week. She'll be taken off morphine once she is healing up nicely. Visiting hours start in," he consulted his watch, "ten minutes. So you will be able to stay with her most of the day. If you'll excuse me, I'm very busy." He left.

Willy looked like he might actually chase after the doctor and throttle him, so Charlie grabbed his arm and led him back to his seat.

"This is how hospitals are Willy. I mean… they're just people, you know? We're not all perfect.. we can't always get _everything_ right.." Charlie tried to calm his mentor.

"If something had happened to her then I would have…" Willy began.

"Done _nothing_. Unless you could prove it was malpractice; like they neglected her or something. I know you, you would've wanted to shut down the whole place and make sure none of the employees ever worked anywhere again and probably had _that_ doctor conveniently disappear or something," Charlie laughed nervously. "But that's not the answer, okay? Like last night.. just focus on the fact that she's alright now."

Willy closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. When he reopened his eyes he looked much calmer.

"You're very wise for your age, did you know that?" He said to Charlie.

"Of course. After all, my ego is trying to gain on yours… I hope to catch up to yours by the time I'm thirty."

"Fat chance!"

"I know."

They laughed quietly.

Ten minutes passed quickly. After they stood up Willy turned and grabbed the vase containing the bouquet of roses he had purchased from the gift shop off of the table where he had sat them. When they entered her room they found her sleeping again. They knew it might be awkward to talk to her. Last night's conversation was pretty strange, but they were willing to listen to whatever random things that she saw fit to say to them.

They sat down; two chairs had been placed on either side of her bed, near the head. Charlie took a book he had brought out of his backpack and began reading. Willy just sat staring at Chelsea. Even with the large cut on her forehead and being much paler than usual she was still the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen. He wanted to wake her up and tell her that fact, but he knew that she most likely would not remember it. He had thought a lot about what Charlie had said to him on the car ride home last night. He knew that he needed to tell her how he felt as soon as possible. As soon as she would remember and understand. He had not really thought out the things that he wanted to say. He knew that he liked her. He knew that he wanted to spend every second of every day with her. But he just did not know what those things meant. Did he want her to be his…_girlfriend_? Ridiculous! What would he _do_ with a _girlfriend_?! They certainly were not very conductive to a candy creating environment, he could already tell that. He had hardly created anything new since she had been around. It was because he could not get _her_ off of his mind long enough to concentrate properly. Not that it was affecting business much. Well not at all actually. Charlie made new things every once in a while and the thousands of popular products he already had all over the world would certainly keep him quite rich for years to come. He just really did not know what the next step was for Chelsea and him. He knew nothing about having girlfriends. Was she not already his girl friend? She is a girl and she is also his friend. Peculiar that. But if he followed that logic that meant that she was also Charlie's girlfriend. Something was odd about that as well. He looked at Charlie over Chelsea's still sleeping form.

"Hey Charlie?"

"Yeah?" Charlie closed his book quietly.

"Is… would you consider…I mean.."

"Spit it out man!"

"Is Chelsea my girlfriend?"

"Um," Charlie squirmed in his seat a little before continuing. "Well, have you ..uhh.. taken her on any dates?"

"Dates?"

"Yeah you know.. out to eat.. well we did have lunch with your father.. but that doesn't count."

"Why not?"

"Because if you wanna go on a real date with her then you two have to go alone. And you have to have asked her out to wherever it is you were going.. and um.. you both have to acknowledge that it's a real date.. I think.." Charlie struggled.

"How does one uh.. _acknowledge_ that it's a real date?"

"You say to her something like, Chelsea, would you care to join me for dinner? And she'd say, what like a date? And you would respond something like, only if you want it to be a date, and…"

"This seems pretty mechanical.. where did you learn this?"

"Movies."

"Ah."

"You guys seemed pretty cozy by the chocolate river ..I mean.. I thought that maybe you had already.. asked her to be.. you know.."

"No! She just.. well.. we were just.." Willy thought for a second about the incident with the river. "I don't know. She just got.. er.. touchy feely on me. I guess."

"Well then she _must_ like you. Have you told her that you like her like that?"

"Like _what_?"

"As a girlfriend."

"Well no.."

Charlie was getting tired of trying to help Willy in an area that he was really not an expert in himself.

"Look, when she's all better and after you've surprised her with Violet, then take her somewhere you can be alone and just tell her that you like her and ask her if she'd like to be your girlfriend."

"Okay. But see.. the problem I'm having here is _why_."

"Why what?"

"Why do I want her to be my girlfriend?"

Charlie stared at him for a full thirty seconds before blinking and raising an eyebrow. Well this did complicate things. Willy's isolation from the world for most of his life really had strange affects on his development.

"Um.. well.. see.." he winced a bit. "If she's your girlfriend then you uhmm.. have the.. _right_ I suppose you could say.. to err.. well.. you _know_…"

"I have no idea. Please tell me."

Charlie closed his eyes.

"If you are her boyfriend then that means only you can touch her.. you know.. _kiss_ her and …hold her.."

"Ew."

"Willy. Don't be stupid. I know you want to kiss her. She is the only person I've ever seen that right from the beginning you haven't had that much of a problem touching."

"Well.. _yeah _but.."

"Its because you like her! Being near her makes you happy…. It makes you _want_ to touch her, right?"

Willy made a perplexed face and then was silent for a moment.

"I suppose you're right on the money there."

"See? That's why you want her to be your girlfriend."

"And girlfriends stay with you forever?"

"Well.. uhh.. if.. if you really always like each other and never get into any really big fights and decide to split up then yeah.."

"Like your mom and d..dad?"

"Yeah! Like my mom and dad. They've been together for a _long_ time. They're in love. They are also married though.."

"Married…. Husband and wife, huh?" Willy scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"Yep. See, that's the next step after having someone as a girlfriend for a while. If you guys can get along for a few years or something and still like each other a lot then you would get married and have kids!"

Willy's eyes widened. He had most definitely not thought about _that_.

"Ki…kids?" He looked completely mortified.

"Well.. heh.. that doesn't have to come until _much, much_ later. I mean.. ..I know you aren't even that comfortable with.."

"Okay.. um.. lets drop the subject now, kay??"

"Oh. Alright. Sorry."

"No, you've been super helpful. Thanks Charlie. Its just.. I can't handle ..much more…I feel kinda… weird.. is all.." Willy looked ill. Chelsea chose that exact lull in their conversation to wake up.

"Willy?" She said sleepily.

"H.. hi," he responded. He had a very pained look on his face.

"Is Charlie here?" Willy pointed across the bed.

She turned her head somewhat and smiled at Charlie.

"Hi Charlie."

"Hello Chelsea."

"Whym I ina hospital?" She slurred slightly.

"You had an accident. Some guy hit you with his truck. But you're alright now. Now you just need to rest and heal up," Charlie said. Willy was still looking uncomfortable.

"Rest?" She repeated, her eyes drooping once again.

"Yeah.. don't let us bother you.. go back to sleep," Charlie replied.

"Kay.." she said quietly before shutting her eyes once again.

Charlie looked at Willy who was watching Chelsea intently. They were silent for a long while after that.

---

Chelsea did not wake up for a few hours after that and the nurse came in and gave her more medication so she would stay asleep. Charlie and Willy decided that she was safe enough where she was for now. Hopefully nothing further could go wrong while she was sleeping. So Willy called his driver to come pick them up.

---

The next four days flew by in much the same manner as the first two visits. She was rarely awake and when she was it was only long enough to greet them or talk more nonsense.

Today was the day that the doctor had said he would take her off of the morphine completely. He had been having the nurses administer less and less and start her on non addictive pain relievers. He had also stopped giving her a sleeping aid. He said that she needed to get her sleeping hours regulated again, and once she had that sorted out then they would have her do a little bit of physical therapy and then they could release her.

At this rate Chelsea and Violet would be being released from their respective hospitals at nearly the same time.

When visiting hours started Charlie and Willy hurried anxiously to her room. Finally they would be able to tell her what had happened and actually have her remember it. Upon entering, they found her asleep, because it was still quite early in the morning, so they quietly took their seats on either side of her bed.

When the sun came out from behind a cloud sending a ray piercing through the curtains to her room falling across her face, she began to stir. Suddenly Willy became aware of exactly how anxious he really was. His palms were slightly sweaty in is gloves and it felt like a million butterflies had just decided to start fluttering around in his stomach.

"Mmmm…." She hummed, opening her eyes and then pulling one of her arms out from under her covers to shield them from the morning sun. Charlie stood and closed the curtains a bit, just so the sun was not directly in her face.

"Thank you… Charlie?" She looked at him curiously.

"Yep. Mornin!" He replied.

"Um.. good morning but what are you doing in my room?"

"Heh…" he blushed a bit. She obviously thought she was back at the factory and that Charlie was in her room for no reason. "_We_, that is, Willy and I are in your _hospital_ room."

"Hospital?!" She exclaimed. She scooted back slowly until she was sitting up more, propped up by the pillows.

"Yeah.. you got hit by a truck when you were out shopping with my mother.. do you remember that?"

"No.. I.. _oh_…" she did remember. "I remember we were walking through the parking lot and your mother suddenly stopped, but before I really noticed that she wasn't with me I heard her shout something and then turned my head and saw headlights coming right at me.. that's really all I remember.."

"Well he hit you and you've been in the hospital for about a week now," Charlie replied.

She moved to lift the covers with both arms and only then did she come to realize that she only _had _the use of _one_ arm. The other arm, near the shoulder, was bandaged to her body. The fracturing of her collar bone rendered her right arm temporarily useless. She looked a little shocked. The only other thing she noticed were some bandages around her chest.

"What… I mean.. how bad?" She mumbled slightly.

"You have a few broken ribs, but the doctor says they're healing nicely. Your collar bone was the worst part. It shattered and the little pieces tore up your muscles and stuff. You were also internally bleeding after your first surgery but they've taken care of all that. Now you just need to heal up," Charlie said with a smile.

Chelsea gingerly touched the bandages over her collar bone. She flinched a bit but then smiled a small smile at Charlie and turned her attention to the other man in the room.

Willy had been waiting silently while Chelsea and Charlie spoke. He was perched on the edge of his seat and as close to the bed as possible. He had a very anxious look on his face, not happy anxious, but rather nervous anxious, and his knee was bouncing rapidly. He was also absently wringing his hands. She realized suddenly that perhaps her accident had caused him trouble or discontent. She attempted to smile happily at him. He attempted to smile happily back at her. They both managed strange grimaces. Then she noticed all of the beautiful roses on the shelves behind him. Her smile brightened considerably.

"Oh how _lovely!!_ Are those for me?" She pointed at the roses. Willy turned his head to look at them.

"Yep! Willy bought you a different colored bouquet of roses from the gift shop every day that we've visited, haven't you?" Charlie was trying to get the seemingly stuck Chocolatier to speak but Willy only nodded at him. "Well.. um.. speaking of the gift shop.. I'm gonna go buy myself a granola bar or something, I'm famished. Be back in a little bit.." and with that excuse Charlie rushed out the door. They obviously needed some alone time.

After the door shut with a click behind Charlie, Willy returned his gaze to Chelsea. She was smiling at him again. He could not think of anything to say. The problem was there were too many things that he wanted to say. He had even imagined this day and what he would like to say to her. It was not working out as planned at all.

Her smile faded a bit. "Is something wrong Willy? Why won't you talk to me?"

He closed his eyes and tried to will his brain to make him speak. Then his eyes shot open when he felt her hand on top of his.

"Thank you for all of the roses," she looked fondly at them. "They really are beautiful."

Willy stared at her for a second with a blank expression on his face before saying, "_You_ are the most beautiful thing in _this_ room." He tried to maintain his blank expression after that but was losing the battle. Her shocked look was making him self conscious. He was just starting to regret having opened his big mouth when she smiled shyly and blushed a bit.

"Oh Willy… I…" She began. But then she looked away and released his hand. "I haven't caused you any trouble or anything, I mean by being in the accident, have I?" She said instead of what she had begun to say.

"No! I mean.. I have been worrying about you.. and I haven't gotten much done at the factory…" her face fell dramatically. "But I don't mind at all!"

"How could you not mind? You are a very busy man.. you shouldn't be stuck here visiting some.. some…_person_ .. you should be working!"

"No! It's alright, honestly!" Willy did not like seeing her upset.

"It's _not_ alright…" she sniffled. "I'm sorry.. I should have been paying more attention to the traffic.."

"Chelsea stop it!" He had not meant to sound so severe but it came out that way. She finally returned her gaze to him. "You are more important to me than my work.. okay?" This time _he_ looked away. He heard her sniffle a bit more and then heard the bed creak which obviously indicated that she was shifting around on it. Then he heard her mutter very quietly,

"Ow.. owwie.."

He looked back at her. She had tried to lean over to him but the bed was raised so much that leaning pulled on her bandages which in turn squeezed her wounds. He looked at her questioningly and then said, "are you okay?"

She grunted and then replied, "I'm having difficulties moving at the moment. I'm in an awkward position.. or rather, the position I _want_ to be in is too awkward for my current state."

"What?"

"Come here!" She reached out and grabbed his shirt right below his W pin and yanked him closer to her. Now he was leaning across her bed and so she leaned back a bit on the fluffy pillows. "Did you mean what you said?"

"Uhh.. which?" He was paranoid because he could not predict what she was going to do. She was still holding onto his shirt.

"About me being important to you?"

"Yes…"

"Good then would you please…_carefully_, help me hug you? I can't do it on my own right now," she smiled at him. He smiled back. He got up the rest of the way from his seat, she released his shirt, and he leaned back over her, more fully. He snaked his arms around her shoulders and under her pillows and very, very gently pulled her into a hug. He was mostly leaning down on her so that she did not have to move. He took special care to not apply pressure to her ribs or her collar bone area. It was a mildly awkward hug as she only had the use of one arm, but a hug nonetheless. Before he released her he turned his head sideways a bit and murmured into her hair, "God I thought I'd lost you…"

"Nope.. you're still stuck with me Mr. Candy Man," she replied into his neck.

He buried his face further into her soft hair and said in a whisper, "if this is what being stuck with someone is like then I should have signed up _much_ sooner." He wiggled his face around a bit, causing her hair to move about. She giggled. He smiled, placing a small kiss on her hair and leaning up. They released each other as he pulled away. When he sat back down she reached out for him so he leaned closer and then she touched his cheek lightly with her fingertips. He shuddered and closed his eyes. He did not have his hat on; it was sitting over on a counter with his jacket and cane, so she moved her hand up and let her fingers comb through his hair. He moved into her touch. Leaning even closer to the bed he had his elbows on the mattress and his head propped up on his hands. She was thoroughly enjoying running her fingers through his silky hair and also enjoying watching him enjoy her attentions, when Charlie decided to come back.

The door clicked and Willy started, his eyes shooting open. Chelsea only looked toward the door curiously. She smiled at Charlie when he entered and, although Willy attempted to pull away from her touch, she did not allow him to do so. She kept playing with his hair and so Willy was stuck in his overly casual position while Charlie took his seat on the other side of the bed. Charlie winked at Willy while Chelsea was looking at her fingers in his hair. Willy only blushed and then smiled back at Charlie.

Maybe he _could_ get used to this.


	20. And it Feels so Good

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 20: And it Feels so Good

Willy, realizing that the three week observation period for Violet was up today, decided that he might need to give Willow Brooke a call. Drawing up the facility's number on his computer, he took a deep breath and dialed.

"Hello? Willow Brooke Facilities. This is Mary speaking, how may I help you?"

"Uh, hi! I need to speak with a ..a hopefully soon to be released patient of yours."

"And you are, sir?"

"Willy Wonka."

"I see. And the patient's name?"

"Uhh.. Violet Beauregarde."

"One moment please."

For a moment he thought that _Mary_ had hung up on him until the music started.

"You don't have to be rich to be my girl, you don't have to be cool to rule my world. Ain't no particular size I'm more compatible with. I just want your extra time and your muah muah muah muah muah kiiiss…"

Willy was just about to hang up because he really was in no mood for Prince, when Mary took him off of hold.

"Mr. Wonka?"

"Oh. Yes?"

"Miss Beauregard was released this morning into the custody of her mother. They told me to give you their home number so that you could contact them."

"That won't be necessary; I already have their home number."

"Alright. Is that all I can help you with?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"Anytime. Thank you for calling Willow Brooke Facilities. Have a nice day."

Click.

Well he should certainly have called sooner. Now he had to deal with Mrs. Beauregard again and that thought was truly, truly, disturbing. He would definitely need Charlie to accompany him on this trip. Assuming the Beauregarde's actually agreed. They would agree eventually. Willy _always_ got what he wanted.

---

Quite a few hours later found Willy and Charlie at the Beauregarde's doorstep in Georgia U.S.A. After considering what exactly he wanted he had come to the conclusion that the Beauregarde's would be best convinced in person, with a pocket full of money and a couple of tickets to a weeks vacation wherever.

They knocked. A few seconds later a _butler_ answered. Pampered princesses. Really, how much money had they gotten from Chelsea's father? Maybe he was preparing to make an offer that they could, in fact, refuse.

"Yes?" The butler said haughtily.

"Is Violet in?" Willy asked, in a mimic haughty manner.

"Miss Beauregarde is not allowed any visitors. She and her mother are enjoying their reunion _privately_."

"Could you please tell the _Beauregarde's_ that Mr. Willy _Wonka_ is here to see them?" Willy said raising his eyebrow in challenge. The butler narrowed his eyes slightly and gave Willy a good once over before nodding and shutting the door.

"How _rude_," Willy said to Charlie. A couple of minutes later and the door reopened. It was not the butler though, it was Violet. Willy and Charlie both relaxed a bit simply knowing that Violet was still not purple.

"Mr. Wonka!" She squealed, leaping out of the door and landing in his arms. Well he _had_ to catch her or she would have knocked him over. It was a brief hug, he pushed her away quickly. "Charlie!" She hugged him as well. Also brief. "What are you guys doing here?" She smiled at them curiously.

"We wanted to .. er.. _invite_ you to come back to the factory with us for an um, small _vacation_," Willy said.

"You want to show Chelsea that I'm all better, right?" Violet understood perfectly.

"Well, _yeah_..." Willy said, looking at his feet.

"That's alright! I wanna see Chelsea anyway!" Violet stated happily. She was so much happier now then how she appeared in the picture that Chelsea had sketched of her. And compared to how she was when they had first seen her.

"See _Chelsea_? Chelsea Collins?" Mrs. Beauregard had appeared suddenly in the doorway behind Violet.

"Yeah. Mr. Wonka and Charlie here said I could come stay in the factory for a little bit and visit with Chelsea," Violet explained.

"Why is Chelsea in the factory?" Her mother responded, eyeing Willy strangely.

"She's come to stay with us, Mrs. Beauregarde. Her …father … well .." Charlie started.

"_Oh_." Was all Mrs. Beauregarde said. Apparently it was not hard to figure out that the sentence starting with Chelsea's father ended with her having a darn good reason to not be living with him any longer. "But Violet just got _home_. I really must insist that she stay here with me. Can't you bring Chelsea _here_?"

"Well… see…" Charlie began.

"Chelsea got hit by a flippin truck! She's in the hospital healing right now! She has all sorts of broken bones… I've _got_ to bring Violet to _her_! Who knows when she'll be able to fly!" Willy looked completely desperate. Mrs. Beauregarde considered him for a few seconds.

"Okay, on _one_ condition," Mrs. Beauregarde purred, approaching Willy slowly.

"Uhh…" Willy said, backing away.

"And just _what_ condition would _that_ be?" Charlie asked, stepping between her and Willy.

She stopped and appeared to rethink her decision a bit. Then she smiled sweetly.

"Oh all _right_. I _was_ going to ask this lovely candy man if he would take me on a _date_, but I can see that would be a bother," she said, examining her nails.

"Ew. And don't call me that. Only Chelsea gets to call me that!" Willy said, clearly annoyed.

"What? _Candy man_?" She batted her eyes at him. Willy blanched and took another precautionary step backwards.

"Yeah! Stop it!" He attempted to order but his voice was high.

"New condition," she began. Gods this woman was appalling.

"What already? Look, I've brought some money and .. and I have a vacation package set up to go wherever you wanna go for a whole…" he was interrupted.

"A kiss."

"A _what_?" choired Willy, Charlie, and Violet.

"I want this germaphobic _man,_ if you could even call him that, to give me a kiss before he takes my daughter away on another one of his _adventures_," she said, addressing Charlie as if he were in charge of Willy. Charlie knew that this was not going to happen.

"What if _I_ were to kiss you instead?" Charlie offered quickly.

She did not even consider Charlie's request before saying no. She obviously had something against Willy to be putting him through this torture. Perhaps the whole turning her daughter purple and making her suicidal thing? Willy was looking seriously like he was going to be sick.

When no one moved to do anything, Mrs. Beauregarde looked away and pretended that she was going to head for the door saying, "well I guess dear _Chelsea_ will just have to wait until she's all better and fly out here to visit Violet by herself."

Charlie did not think this kind of manipulation would actually work, so he was surprised when Willy pushed him out of the way, stepped up to Mrs. Beauregard, grabbed her shoulders, pulled her to him, and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Clearly no one had been expecting this, least of all Mrs. Beauregarde, because she just stood there awkwardly with wide eyes. Willy released her, shoved her away from him, and turned to walk away.

"We'll wait in the cab Violet. Pack a bag. Hurry up," he said over his shoulder. Charlie and Violet exchanged questioning looks before Charlie left to wait with Willy and Violet ushered her mother back into the house.

Willy was highly disappointed that his first kiss on the lips had to be from such a despicable source but he said nothing to his companions once they had rejoined him. Luckily, he was very skilled at blocking certain things completely out of his mind.

---

By the time they had all returned it was Chelsea's last day at the hospital. They went directly there to pick her up. On the way in, Willy stopped by the gift shop to buy his final bouquet of roses from there for Chelsea. Violet noticed the roses he held in his hand and smiled. Chelsea was really very lucky.

When they got to her room, Willy told Violet that he wanted her to go in first. Charlie and Violet thought that this was a bit odd but he said he wanted to see what would happen. Shrugging, Violet opened the door.

In a matter of seconds Willy and Charlie and half of the entire floor heard Chelsea's ecstatic shriek of joy. Willy smiled and assured the startled nurses that it was a _happy_ shriek and then entered the room after Charlie.

"Willy! You created a cure! You didn't even mention it to me!" Chelsea beamed at him from the bed. She was sitting on it with her legs dangling over the edge. She was fully clothed and ready to go.

"_Actually_…" Willy began nervously. He fidgeted with the roses that he still held behind his back. "I umm.. well see, Charlie and I.. we um.. we kinda cured her a while ago.. yeah.."

"What?" Chelsea looked confused.

"When we had that argument… um.. I wanted to make you happy again, so you'd talk to me. So Charlie here said we should try and cure Violet. I figured that if I gave her an Ultra Strength Wonka-Vite that it might just do the trick. And it did!" He finished, gesturing to Violet.

"You mean she's been okay all this time and you never told me?"

"Well I wanted it to be a surprise.. and look! It sure was!"

"But you _lied_ to me.." Chelsea frowned.

Willy looked like a scared puppy. Charlie grabbed Violets elbow and pulled her out of the room. They needed one of those private moments again.

"Oh Chelsea.. _please_ don't be upset with me again… it'll hurt too much.." he said, approaching her bed. He came to stand directly in front of her. He pulled the roses out from behind himself and held them up till they were right under his chin and tilted his head slightly, making a pouty face. She tried not to smile but failed miserably. He was being so cute, but she was still slightly angry.

"Willy, why did you not tell me sooner?" She asked, taking the roses from him and sniffing them before sitting them on the table next to the bed. He began to fidget with his jacket so she managed to grab his hands in hers good one, bringing them down onto her lap.

"At first I was just scared and panicked for some reason so I didn't tell you. But... _later_ I thought about it more and realized that it would be horrible to tell you that I had cured Violet and then take you to visit her and have it have worn off or something. Plus Violet had to stay for three weeks before they'd decide whether she could be released or not. So I just figured I'd keep it as a surprise for you… I'm really sorry.." he said, looking anywhere but at her.

Chelsea decided that since his intentions were all good that she would forgive him.

"It's alright Willy." She pulled him into a one armed hug as her other arm was now in a sling.

He wrapped his arms around her very carefully and returned the hug. She signed into his neck. "Thank you Willy… you've no idea how much helping Violet means to me…"

"Yes I do, that's why I did it," he said, smiling. They released each other. They simply smiled at each other for a few moments until Willy broke the silence. "I would do _anything_ for you Chelsea. I…" he paused unsure of what he really wanted to say. "You make me very happy and I want you to know that I will always want to make you happy as well."

Chelsea's eyes gathered moisture without her permission and she wanted to say something similar back to him but found that her throat had closed up. She settled for reaching out for him and curling her fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him close to her once again. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and held him tight. As she drew back she moved his hair out of the way with her nose and paused, placing a small line of kisses just in front of his ear. He blushed and turned his head so that he was in the position she was just in and he placed a lingering kiss on her temple. She signed and he closed his eyes, bracing himself against a wave of desire that had suddenly hit him. They broke apart when the hospital room door unexpectedly opened. It was a nurse.

The nurse took in their slightly flushed faces and Chelsea's teary eyes and simply quirked an eyebrow. "Miss Collins?"

"Yes?"

"You have been cleared to leave. Here are your prescriptions. The doctor said to tell you to take it _very_ easy for about a month. Nothing strenuous. He would prefer that you mainly stayed in bed and said that going to and from the restroom or going to get food and the like would be plenty of exercise the first few weeks. Alright?"

Chelsea nodded. Willy turned and draped his arm around Chelsea's shoulders.

"Tell her doctor not to worry. I'll be looking after her. She will follow his instructions to a T," Willy said, smiling. Chelsea rolled her eyes but leaned into him. Her candy making protector.

They left the hospital hand in hand, accompanied by a smiling Bucket and their new house guest.

Willy could not wait for some alone time with his Chelsea.


	21. Annoyance You've Got Mail

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 21: Annoyance You've Got Mail

Willy thoroughly enjoyed playing nurse maid to Chelsea. Although, he certainly would have enjoyed it even more if little Miss sassy-regarde had not decided that when he had said _small vacation_ that he had meant for however long that she pleased. She asked Chelsea, of all people, if it would be alright for her to stay at least until Chelsea was all healed up and of course Chelsea was overjoyed. Oh Chelsea made sure to at least _ask_ Willy; after all it was _his_ factory. But everyone, including the aggravated Chocolatier, knew that Chelsea would have her way regardless. Like he would tell her no. So, Violet happily shared a room and even a bed with her incapacitated ex step sister. They were inseparable, much to Willy's chagrin.

It had been two and a half weeks since Chelsea was released from the hospital. Two and a half weeks of extreme, girly, torture.

Willy was currently pulling out a chair for Chelsea at the small dinning table that he had had set up in her room. Chelsea was mobile but every once in a while she needed to sit or lie down or take butt loads of her pain medication. Willy had thought about just giving her a Wonka-Vite but did not know how it would interact with her current medications so he planned to do so after she was off of them.

"Thank you Willy," Chelsea said as he scooted her chair in behind her.

"You are most welcome," he said, smiling down at her. He took his seat without offering to pull out Violet's chair. Violet took no notice and simply sat herself after he did. Violet and Willy both tended to act like spoilt brats from time to time, so their personalities were clashing horribly. They both tried to play nice for Chelsea's benefit but the second Chelsea was not looking it was all smirks and glares. They were competing for her attention. It was really quite silly.

"So Willy, have you taken Violet to the Fizzy Lifting Drink Room yet?"

"No, he hasn't taken me _anywhere_ inside the working part of the factory. Says I'm not trustworthy enough, even though I've seen of it before…" Violet said cockily.

"I did too… I took you to the Chocolate Room and you hung out with the Buckets a couple of times!"

"That hardly counts. And it certainly isn't the Fizzy Lifting Drink Room whatever _that_ might be." Violet smirked at him after saying this because he suffered a chastising look from Chelsea.

"Well, we are guests in _Willy's_ factory Violet. If he doesn't want to give you a tour then that's his business," Chelsea said, returning her gaze to Violet.

Willy smiled. "I just don't want to chance another.. incident.. like what happened the last time I gave Miss. Beauregarde here a tour."

"I think I've learned my lesson. Actually, _I_ don't really have any desire to go anywhere without you anyway, Chels."

"Well you might be waiting for a bit, I can't handle the elevator yet, hence the long wheelchair ride when we first got here."

"Let's eat, squirrelly girlies," Willy said. He was awfully hungry.

As they ate their meal in silence, Willy thought about the past couple of weeks. He supposed it was a good thing that Violet had decided to stay. Chelsea had been unable to undress and dress herself as well as unable to shower. It would have been quite awkward had Willy discovered this fact alone with her. Well, he supposed he could have gotten Mrs. Bucket to help out. He was drawn out of his thoughts when something hit him on the cheek.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, irritated. He saw the pea rolling around on the table. Chelsea looked startled at his outburst, and Violet was doing her best to look innocent and failing miserably at it. She finally laughed aloud.

"Oh come _on_ Mr. _stuffy_… laugh a little!"

Chelsea smiled at Violet as she watched her flick another pea at him with her fork. Willy flinched and then turned to Chelsea when he heard her giggle.

"Oh, so you're in on this as well then?" He accused.

"Maaay-be," Chelsea said and batted her eyelashes. She loaded a pea onto her fork and flung it at his head, making it down the opening of his collar.

"Ahh.. _hey_.." He complained, as he began to un-tuck his undershirt trying to release the pea. The girls laughed all the while. After he finally fetched out the pea he picked up a dinner roll and tossed it at Violet. She screamed and ducked but was not quick enough as it hit her on the forehead. Just as she was about to retaliate, Chelsea scooped up a spoon full of the chocolate pudding that was supposed to be for dessert and slung it at Willy. It hit his cheek with a small splat. He was in shock.

"Don't you think we've had _enough_ of being covered in _chocolate_?" He said as he tried to wipe it off of his cheek, succeeding mostly in smearing it.

"Oh stop, let _me_.." Chelsea got up, grabbing a clean napkin as she did so, and came to Willy's aid. She cleaned up his face nicely and, carefully because bending over still hurt, bent and placed a lingering kiss where most of the chocolate had been. This was their first intimate moment since Chelsea's last day at the hospital. It was also their very first intimate moment in front of Violet. She looked uncomfortable and averted her eyes hastily.

As Chelsea moved she whispered, "Oh I don't know about _that_. I'd enjoy having you covered in chocolate again sometime I think…" to Willy, who in response only gulped and turned red. She smiled and returned to her seat. She found it immensely entertaining to say naughty things to him, even though she had no idea where the urge to do so came from. She certainly did not used to be so bold in that way.

The rest of the meal passed uneventfully.

---

Another week went by much the same as the previous two and a half as far as Willy and Violet's compatibility was concerned, but much better for Chelsea's health. Her ribs were healing up quite nicely but would probably not, according to the note that came with her medication from her doctor, be completely healed for another month. She lost the necessity of her sling because it finally became easier for her to lift her arm. The fractures in her collarbone did not restrict movement, they only made it painful. It would not be much longer before that bone was better as well. As long as Chelsea was not jumping around or slamming into things then she was in no pain. The painkillers were still helping but she was running out of them.

Today they were enjoying a picnic in the Chocolate Room. Everyone was there, again, much to Willy's chagrin. They had been able to take the elevator because Willy brought the wheel chair on board and put on its breaks as well as holding it firmly in place. He remembered the first time Violet had ridden in the elevator, the night he took her to meet and dine with the Buckets. It was hilarious. She flung around so badly that he very nearly was tempted to grab her elbow to steady her. Very _nearly_. He smiled as he thought of that night.

"What are you thinking about candy man?" Chelsea asked from his side. They were sitting on a blanket atop the candy grass near a pack of candy mushrooms and a candy cherry tree. Charlie and his mother, father, and Violet were on one huge blanket a little bit from them and the Grandparent's were on another next to them. Each blanket was within ten feet of the others.

Willy turned his head and smiled fiendishly at her. Violet's and Willy's shared semi-animosity was not much of a secret any more.

"I was just remembering Miss priss bouncing off the walls like a rubber ball in the Great Glass Elevator."

"You sure seem to think about Violet quite a bit, did you notice that?" Chelsea teased. She knew she had nothing to worry about as far as Violet and Willy were concerned.

"Only because her pain is my pleasure, buttercup," Willy replied, laying down on his side and propping his head up on his hand.

"You shouldn't say things like that Willy.. I mean.. not after ..you know.." Chelsea felt bad.

"Oh you know I don't _really_ mean it.. but its fun to say!" He took one of her hands in his. She was sitting cross legged near his head.

"If you can't say something nice you shouldn't say anything at _all_," Chelsea teased some more.

"Nice huh…" Willy thought for a moment. "About you or _her_?" He waggled his eyebrows a bit.

"About everyone silly."

"Well in that case," he shifted angles a bit and laid his hatless head on her lap, placing the hand he had been holding into his hair. She automatically started running her fingers through it, which was his intention because he absolutely _loved_ it when she did that.

"In that case what?" Chelsea pressed.

"In that case then I'm going to have to say that you are by far the most choice, far out, fab, groovy, hip, keen-o, neat, primo, righteous, wicked, and certainly the most foxy chick that I've ever had the pleasure of meeting," he replied, turning so that he was on his back smiling up at her.

"Well I certainly think you're swell too daddy-o," Chelsea said, giggling. Willy's grin widened because she had played along with his word game. "And if I could bend that low I would _cert-ain-ly_ give yah a smooch because you are definitely a stone-fox!" Willy was about to say that she did not need to bend low because he was on his way up to her, when they found themselves covered in whipped cream. Startled, they looked over to find that Charlie and Violet had loaded up a basket with cream from one of the mushrooms and poured it over them. They knew this because Charlie and Violet were currently cracking up and the basket lay at their feet. The rest of the Bucket's joined in with a good laugh as well.

Willy was just about to scream at all of them, angered by the fact that they probably had just ruined his chance at kissing Chelsea, when he felt something odd. He looked over at Chelsea, because he had moved to a sitting position next to her, and found that the odd thing he was feeling was her flicking cream at his head. The little droplets felt different than when the whole lot of it was dumped on them. His anger evaporated when he noticed how much fun she was having. Then he got an idea. Then he decided that the idea was absolutely out of the question. Germs… ew. His body apparently had control over his brain in matters such as these though, as he soon found himself leaning towards Chelsea anyway. She still had her eyes closed and was laughing. He brought his lips next to the side of her face and licked where he hoped her ear was. He was right on target. Chelsea's laughter subsided but she did not open her eyes, she both knew and found that she could not believe that it was Willy. He had only quickly licked a bit of cream off of her earlobe before hastily pulling away. Chelsea wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back to her. Willy took this as an invitation to continue what he had started but they broke apart when Grandpa George yelled,

"Oh get a room you two!"

This was followed by another bout of laughter at their expense.

And a random thought that popped into Willy's mind of its own accord,

I have_ tons _of rooms_…_

That thought was quickly squashed.

---

Another week and Willy decided that he really needed to get some of his actual work done, so he left Chelsea in the company of her wicked ex-sibling.

The Inventing Room was buzzing, clicking, and bubbling as usual.

"Willy?" Charlie said from across the room where he was trying to convince an Oompa Loompa named Victor that the muck he was offering him for testing was not a pile of good smelling boogers.

"Yeah?" Willy turned off the flame on the torch he was using and set aside his goggles.

"Well actually I have two questions," Charlie began. "First, could you tell Victor that I'm not trying to feed him mucus?"

Willy smiled and approached them. He inspected the pile of …stuff on Charlie's tray and then winked at Victor who cautiously took a handful and tried it.

They received immediate thumbs up. It was for their Halloween slime candy collection.

"Well done Charlie!" Willy beamed at him.

"Um.. I was just wondering," Charlie said as he sat his tray aside. "Did you ask Chelsea to be your girlfriend yet?" He looked at his mentor.

"Nope. But seriously I don't think its really necessary.. I mean.. she certainly already _seems_ like she is.. right?"

"Yeah. But I talked about it with my dad and he said that some girls will move on if they don't think you wanna be _official_ or something."

Willy looked quite disturbed with this news.

"Well.. I guess.. maybe I should.. see what she thinks about the idea.. sometime.. soon.." He said hesitantly.

"Good idea man.." Charlie said. "Girls are a lot of work it seems."

Willy just smiled. He thought Chelsea was well worth any amount of work whatsoever.

---

It had been nearly three months now and Willy was beginning to wonder when Miss I-can-never-pass-up-a-chance-at-a-food-fight was going to _leave_ his factory. Chelsea was back to normal except for the occasional pain in her neck, literally. Once she was off of her medications he had given her another Ultra Strength Wonka-Vite. It had immediately improved everything about her. Unfortunately it had not improved one of her most annoying problems. Her second shadow was still following her everywhere.

"Willy you SUCK!" Violet bellowed at him as they were boating down the Chocolate River. They had just shown Violet the lickable wallpaper at Chelsea's insistence. Chelsea raised her eyebrows but decided not to interfere. Charlie's shoulders were already shaking with his silent laughter. "Why can't I see the freakin' Fizzy Lifting Drink Room? Chelsea told me it was cool. I wanna see it!"

"Are you operating under the very misguided _delusion_ that one, I care, and that two, you actually _get_ all of the things that you _want_?" Willy said back at her with all his aristocratic charm.

"Yes!" She crossed her arms and pouted.

Willy crossed his arms as well and looked away.

"Oh Willy…" Chelsea slid her arm around his back and pulled him along the slick candy bench seat until he was flush with her. She leaned in and whispered, "Pretty please with sugar on top? Everyone should get to experience those drinks.. they're wonderful…"

"Everyone _except_ for Miss Snoot over there!" Willy said loudly.

"Hey, you weirdo, germaphobic, butthead!" Violet shouted back at him.

Willy's eyes clearly said that he was done discussing the matter and that his last answer was the final one. That is, until he felt where Chelsea's hand had gotten to. She moved her arm that was not preoccupied holding him close to her into his jacket, under his vest, and was currently fiddling with the buttons on his long sleeved undershirt, occasionally letting one of her fingers slip in to brush against his stomach. Oh drat. _Women_. Well as long as she did not repeat the request then he certainly would not feel the need to change his answer because of her ..womanly.. _art_ of persuasion. He squirmed a bit because she tickled him.

"Willy please let her experience this. Before she has to go home."

Well _that_ caught his attention.

"And just _when_ will _that_ lovely event take place?"

"Well… I suppose the sooner you let her see …and _use_ the Fizzy Lifting Drinks, the sooner that _I_ might be persuaded to ask her to catch the next flight to Georgia," Chelsea responded quietly. She leaned close to him and breathed into his ear, "and the sooner we can have some time to ourselves."

Ah. Well. When put in all of those beautiful and highly appealing words, giving in to the chit seemed like a very, _very_ good idea.

"Uh.." Willy directed at the Oompa Loompas, "please take us to the Fizzy Lifting Drink Room. Thank you."

Violet clapped her hands together and squealed in delight at having finally gotten her way.

While Willy was attempting to squelch the things that Chelsea's fingers were currently doing to his mental stability.

---

Violet enjoyed herself immensely in the Fizzy Lifting Drink Room. She flew around so fast. She was like an expert, with her youthful martial arts abilities resurfacing. She and Charlie bounced off walls and staged little battles and tried strange stunts, while Willy and Chelsea floated peacefully as far away from the destructive paths of their comrades as possible.

Willy and Chelsea looked as if they were dancing to a slow song. Willy did not want Chelsea floating around freely where she stood the risk of re-injuring herself. He really did not want her to even drink the Fizzy Lifting Drink but she had insisted. He held her tight in his arms as they slowly spun. Eventually she talked him into turning on the music, but he flat refused the strobe lights because then they might unknowingly get in the line of danger. Violet was happy with the music. Now it seemed Violet and Charlie were having a dance off.

Suddenly it occurred to Willy that this might be a good time to have the girlfriend talk with Chelsea. He had just about worked up the nerve to broach the subject when she pulled away from him. She stretched out their arms between them and then gave him a twirl as though he were the female part in a dance that involved …a twirl. He spun completely around, very quickly, her arm moving his over his head and then she stopped him and pulled him close again.

"We could give them a run for their money in a dancing competition, huh?" Chelsea said with a smile.

"Sure. _If_ I was insane enough to let you fly dance around. But I'm _not_ so don't go getting any ideas."

He was surprised to see that she was not angry in the least with his response. In fact, she looked very happy.

"Chelsea?"

She looked at him questioningly.

"I'm so happy that you're happy.."

"Well I'm happy that you're happy that _I'm_ happy then," she said with a giggle.

He pulled her close and placed a quick kiss on her forehead. Oh if she only knew…

Gods but he loved her.

_Love?_

Hmm…

---

The next morning Violet had indeed caught the first flight back to Georgia, which was whenever she felt like it because Willy had graciously leant her the use of his jet. Chelsea promised to try and visit the states every summer where she intended to see Violet but would most likely go see her father and the rest of her family as well.

Violet's departure, oddly, was not the high point of Willy's day. An Oompa Loompa named Sherry approached him unexpectedly while he and Chelsea were having lunch with the Bucket's. She had not even knocked on the front door so he was startled when he felt a small tug on his jacket. He looked down.

"Uh.. yes?"

She held out a thick envelope to him. He took it. Well, this was indeed strange. The Oompa Loopma mail lady usually did not bring him mail unless she felt it was very important.

He started to open the package but then he noticed who it was from. He immediately leapt up and excused himself. He left the house and walked until he found a nice private spot of candy grass next to the Chocolate River. Then he brought his attention back to the envelope in his hands.

It was addressed to him, obviously, but it was who it was _from_ that was intriguing. It was from a Mr. James Collins in California. Chelsea's father. But what did he want with him?

He ripped open the envelope and gently pulled out the letter, laying the envelope on the grass beside him.

_Mr. Wonka,_

_If you have yet to take notice please do so now to the other contents _

_of the envelope in which you found this letter. _

Willy paused and picked up the envelope once again. Sure enough, secured in bubble wrap was something small and shiny. He would get to that later. He returned his attention to the letter.

_It belonged to Chelsea's mother. She died when Chelsea was still pretty young so I doubt Chelsea will recognize it but I am sure that having it in her possession will make her very happy. Tell her of its importance. The ring _

Ring?

_has been passed down in my family from father to son for a few generations now. When my father knew it was time he had my mother return the ring to him and then he proceeded to give it to me to pass on. I in turn gave it to my wife. Well, as you probably know, I did not have a son of my own, so I am hereby giving this ring to __you__. I trust that you will know what to do with it when the time comes. _

_Please son, take good care of my little girl._

_Sincerely and in your debt,_

_Jim Collins_

Willy laid the letter down and stared off into the chocolate of the river for a moment in thought before finally reaching for the envelope. He fished out the little bubble package and unwrapped it. Out fell a gorgeous gold ring with a tear drop shaped ruby on it. This was Chelsea's mother's ring. This was Chelsea's Grandmother's ring.

This ring belonged to _Chelsea._


	22. Shedding Skin for Forever

A/N: I would simply like to say that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, which basically means that I have no beta and that I am uber excited so I'll be posting chapters of random length and most likely random quality. 1. Hold no high expectations and 2. Be gentle. Also, I don't own any of the recognizable characters only the new storyline into which I have cruelly thrown them. I get no money for this people, geeze!

Additionally, I ask that you recognize the magic that exists in the Wonkaverse. This is essential. Remember, nothing is impossible, just improbable!

---

Ch 22: Shedding Skin for Forever

Willy sat next to the Chocolate River simply staring at the ring that Chelsea's father had given him for nearly half an hour. It was only when he heard people's voices approaching that he crammed the letter back into its envelope and thrust it into the large pocket inside his jacket. He stowed the ring into his pants pocket for safe keeping. Standing up, he tried to look casual as Charlie and Chelsea neared him.

"You alright Willy? You've been out here for quite a bit," Chelsea said. Her voice full of concern.

"Oh.. yeah! Just had some business to take care of," Willy lied.

"Alright, well Charlie was gonna take me to the Inventing Room to show me the slime he made, wanna come?"

"Sure!" Willy strode over to Chelsea and crooked his arm allowing her to loop hers through his and then they were on their way.

---

"Yuck! It _does_ look like a pile of boogers," Chelsea said, wrinkling her nose at the slime that Charlie was offering to her.

"Oh not you _too_… how do you know what a pile of boogers looks like? Been saving yours for examination?" Charlie responded, exasperated.

"Well just maybe I _have_," Chelsea teased. Willy gave her a strange look at this. She laughed. "I really haven't, don't worry!"

"Whatever you say baby-cakes!" Willy replied with a raised eyebrow. This earned him a strange look from Chelsea. "What?"

"_Baby-cakes_?" She asked, hands on hips.

"You know sometimes words just pop right out of his mouth Chelsea.." Charlie said, laughing.

"I don't seem to have that one thing that most other people have.. where it stops me from saying things that shouldn't be said," he agreed, smiling. "_Doll-face_," he added as an afterthought with a smirk.

Charlie and Chelsea just shook their heads at him.

"Come on, try some, Victor did," Charlie held the tray of slime up to Chelsea's face.

"Oh alright." She scooped up a bit of it with her finger and licked it off. The boys watched her, probably with very different things running through their minds, until she smiled and declared, "perfect!"

Smiles all around.

---

Mrs. Bucket invited Willy and Chelsea to stay for dinner when they dropped Charlie off at his home, but Willy politely declined saying that he already had made other arrangements. Oddly, this statement earned him a wink from Grandpa George and some knowing stares from everyone else. Chelsea just looked pleased that she and Willy would be dinning alone for once.

When they got to Willy's dinning room it was decorated beautifully. Well, more like the lights were dimmed and the table had a fancy cover draped over it and was accented with candles. Classical music played lightly in the background.

He pulled out her chair for her and seated himself across the table. They were served by Oompa Loompa's in cute little tuxedos. The meal was exquisite and Chelsea was beginning to wonder what she had done to deserve all of this attention.

"Willy… is there some special occasion that I'm not aware of?"

"Nope. I just thought this would be nice for a change… is it alright?" He looked slightly worried.

"Oh yes, it's marvelous! The room looks lovely and dinner was very good," she reassured him quickly.

"Good! I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. Um.. I was wondering… I have this.. special room that I wanna show you.. would you mind accompanying me there after dessert?"

"I wouldn't mind at all! You know that," she said with a smile.

"Kay!" And they dug into their Dutch apple pie.

---

When they arrived at his special room, Willy was a bundle of nerves. This room meant a lot to him and he had never shared it with anyone. He pushed open the door and heard Chelsea's small gasp from beside him. Looking over at her he saw her beautiful smile.

"This, my lovely, is what I like to call the star tower," he gestured around the expansive area. He glanced up, making her look as well. "There is nothing blocking our view of this wonderful night sky," he went on, pointing to the clear dome ceiling in the tone of a real estate agent attempting to make a sale. "The glass is very thick, so no amount of hail or anything like that.. not even _bullets_ could pierce it!" He walked a bit further into the room. "This," he pointed at his feet, "is red velvet, all the way around. It's a foamy step, as you can see, circling the entire room." He took off his hat, jacket, and shoes, and set them in a pile next to the door, laying his cane with them. He leapt off of the step and landed in the most massive bean bag type thing that Chelsea had ever seen. It jiggled insanely for a second and then he rolled, quite comically, into the very middle.

The room was a large circular dome and around the entire edge, extending into the room about 3 feet, was the red velvet walkway made of very thick foam. She could feel her feet sinking in slightly, but it was still easy to walk. Then there was a step. The drop was about two feet into what appeared to be the giant bean bag. The whole rest of the room, inside the circle walkway, was this cushion. It looked _fun_. So, removing her shoes and sitting them next to Willy's pile by the door, she leapt in after him.

"Oh wow… it's not anything like I expected it to be." The cushion was moving like she was on water, but it was not exactly like a normal water bed. It seemed softer.

"It _is_ water under there, if that's what you're thinking. But the top layer, about four inches thick, is Viscoelastic type stuff. Like those new beds are made out of… the tempur whatsits. Anyway, it's way more relaxing than just having the rubber between you and the water, because its soft and fluffy and you sink in a bit. Come over here!" he patted the area next to him.

Chelsea crawled awkwardly over to where he was lying and sprawled herself out next to him. "This room is really neat!"

"Yep. I come here sometimes when I wanna be alone or just to relax. Oh and whenever I know there's gonna be a meteor shower or something. Its really peaceful," he crossed his arms above his head and gazed up at the stars.

"What's through those two doors?" Chelsea asked, pointing at the two doors across from the door in which they came. They were separated quite a bit, so all three doors could be the points on a triangle.

"One of them, that one to be precise," he pointed at one of the doors, "is the restroom. Never know when you gotta go! And the other is a small kitchen. That way if I get hungry or thirsty I can just nip right in there without having to go back to my dining room or the Bucket's."

"I love this room, it's so cozy," Chelsea smiled over at Willy. He turned his head to look at her and his breath caught. The room was very dark for star gazing purposes. She looked even more spectacular, glowing in the moonlight. He turned onto his side to face her properly and she did the same. He reached out and brought his fingertips to her face. They both closed their eyes as he stroked her cheek lightly. Reopening his eyes he ran his index finger over her bottom lip. She reopened her eyes as well and he saw what could only be desire staring back at him. He struggled to gulp and then felt his entire body catch fire.

"Chelsea," he said quietly.

"Yes?" she responded, her eyelids drooping somewhat.

"I want to touch you," he said in a whisper.

With that statement her eyes grew wide.

"What?" She knew she had heard him correctly, but needed to know what he thought that he meant.

"I mean.. I…" he started but paused. He then did something she had not seen him do in all the time that she had known him. He peeled off his gloves and tossed them as far away from them as possible. Frozen, she could only watch to see what his next move would be. He leaned closer to her still and brought his fingertips back to her face. He fluttered them with a feather light pressure over her cheeks, jaw, ears, and neck, before bringing them back to her lips. When he touched her lip she stuck the tip of her tongue out and touched it to his finger. He pulled away and she closed her eyes once more.

She reopened her eyes when he had not returned to his exploring. He was just watching her, his gaze intense. He looked as though he were making a decision. He reached into his pocket and brought something out and then extended his closed hand to her. She opened her hand and accepted whatever it was.

It was a ring.

A spectacular ring.

A ring that looked familiar, as if it were from a dream.

"Willy.. what…are you..?" she was short of breath and very confused.

"That was your mother's. It's kind of a family heirloom. Your grandfather gave it to his wife and then …when your father … well.. your grandfather had your grandmother return it to him because he knew it was time that your father wanted to propose to your mother. And that tradition would have continued.. had your father had a son," Willy said, looking at the ring in Chelsea's hand.

"How do you know all of this? And how did you get this?"

"Your father sent me a letter. He told me to tell you that the ring had been passed down in your family."

She saw Willy swallow a few times and then he started to fidget with his W broach.

"Willy I… did he want me to.. keep this ..or..?" She glanced down at the ring on her palm.

Willy sat up a little and so she followed suit. He used his hands to close her fingers over the ring. "Yes, it's yours."

She was about to ask why her father had sent it to him but soon found that her personal space was being invaded. A good invasion, but an invasion none the less.

"I…" she started.

"Chelsea…" he brought his mouth close to her face and kissed her cheek. Then, moving down to her shoulder, he kissed a trail all the way up to just below and slightly behind her ear. He had started shaking somewhat but fought down the urge to flee. Bringing his mouth to her ear he whispered, "I… I love you."

"Willy.." she managed before her throat started to close up. She was about to start crying.

"I love you _so_ much…" he moved to place a kiss on her temple before returning his mouth to her ear.

Bloody hell…

Should I?

Urgh.

…Oh sod the whole _girlfriend_ thing…

"Chelsea, would you consider …staying with me… forever?" He placed his hand over hers that held the ring and gave it a squeeze to let her know that he was actually meaning what she probably thought that he was meaning.

She hiccupped a couple of times and tears were openly falling down her cheeks but she managed to nod yes. Then he opened her hand and took the ring, carefully sliding it on to her ring finger.

"Its.." she gave a watery laugh. "It's a little too big for me."

Willy examined it and said, "we can get that adjusted."

"Oh Willy…" she threw her arms around him and they proceeded to fall over onto their sides. Willy very carefully rolled her onto her back and leaned over her so as to not put any pressure on her ribs. Bringing his left hand up he buried it in her hair, curling his fingers around the back of her head. Her hair was like wavy silk. He pulled her up slightly.

"Forever Chelsea?"

She smiled up at him.

He brought his mouth down onto hers without waiting for a verbal response to his question. He was very gentle at first and then he opened his mouth and kissed her with all the hunger and passion of a man in love. Their tongues explored each other for a moment before she drew back.

"Yes! Forever and a day. I love you Candy Man…" and she pulled him back down to her for another, much lengthier, kiss.

It was a long night of exploration under the stars.

A night of many firsts.

A ceaseless passion that only seemed to grow and grow.

And Willy never wore his gloves again.

Unless he was making candy.

---

Finis

The End

And I bid you a Good Day.


	23. Epilogue in Lieu of a Sequel

A/N: I want to THANK THANK THANK everyone who stuck with me for this, my very first fanfic. I received several reviews requesting a sequel. I had hoped that the last few lines of chapter 22 would be enough to imply a "happily ever after" type of thing but I guess it was not. I honestly think that any sequel I could make would be difficult and awkward to do. But I realize that some of the things I meant to imply that would happen in the future were not implied strongly enough. So, since I do not plan on doing a sequel to Phone a Friend, I will do this short Epilogue that will be similar to the ending's of those documentaries in which it says, "So and so went on to do this and that…" Perhaps it will add that feeling of closure that most of you seem not to have gotten. I may write more non related fics in the future but I do not know as of yet.

Also, I encourage anyone who reads this to go ahead and take my idea, story, direct quotes ;) and make my story better, longer, or to even do an actual sequel. Please just give me a mention at the beginning and DEFINITLY send me the url because I'd wanna read it! Another thing, if you do any fan art please e-mail it to me! I wanna see! If I REALLY like it I'll find a way to make it where everyone who reads this can access it.

Okay, on with the future and the end.

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Ch 23: Epilogue in Lieu of a Sequel

In the years that came after that magical night in the star room, many great changes occurred.

Willy allowed Chelsea to read the letter that her father had sent to him containing the ring. This was the event that had made the decision of whether or not she would visit her father in the summers much easier for her. She knew her father was only a real bastard when he was drunk. So she did go and visit her family in California. But not ever before she would visit Violet. They came second.

Violet and her mother eventually bonded in ways that no one would have thought possible. The money that they had gotten from Chelsea's father eventually ran out and being thrust back into lower upper class status gave Mrs. Beauregarde the reality check that she so desperately needed. That and her marriage to a man that she actually loved. Finally Violet got to experience a happy household. She also got to experience _life_.

Violet eventually gained her High School Diploma through a test at the local college. She also went to Drama school and in time became a very popular actress. She threw her own parties and more than made up for the prom that she had missed. She made up for her lack of prom date as well. When she felt ready, she began dating and ultimately married an artist that had worked on the storyboards for a film she had been in. They had three children, Chelsea, William, and Bo.

Charlie's family always stayed happy and never ever wanted for anything again.

Charlie, while attending a client meeting in Nairobi, met his future wife. Her name was Elizabeth. She was British but lived in Africa. Her father had scheduled the meeting with Charlie to see if he could get Wonka Ind. to custom make a line of products for his school children; he was a schoolmaster. She eventually moved into the factory and they had a daughter named Rose. The future _co-owner_ of Wonka Ind.

This brings us back to our quirky Chocolatier and the love of his life.

Through Chelsea's efforts Willy met with his father for dinner once a month and Dr. Wonka was also invited to all holidays at the factory. Their relationship, while never very physical or openly emotional, grew into that of a proud father and respectful son. Willy was forever grateful for this. So was Dr. Wonka.

Chelsea taught Willy how to truly be close to a person. She also made quite the traveler of him; he only used to travel when extremely necessary and even then did not derive any pleasure from it. Willy brought a little bit of magic into her world as well. They were usually happy and rarely even argued. A perfect match in every way.

Chelsea was discontent at first with being simply a housewife. This was quickly remedied by the discovery that Chelsea made one darn good advertisement designer. Willy stumbled upon her one afternoon avidly watching some Oompa Loompa's in the Design Department. It clicked right then that it would make her immensely happy to be more involved in his work. She agreed and worked with the Design Team from that point on. Except of course for her one lengthy leave of absence. A few long months to be precise.

She returned to her work after their son, Willy Sebastian Wonka the second was old enough to start school. He would always go by Sebastian. Charlie did not know what would happen about him being Willy's heir but Willy said that he would keep his promise.

Rose and Sebastian were born around the same time. They were not home schooled and were allowed to live a fairly normal life outside of the factory as much as possible. They were childhood friends, and eventually high school sweethearts. Sebastian was given his mother's ring by his very content father. Rose's name underwent a slight change from Rose Lynn Bucket to Rose Lynn Wonka. _They_ inherited the Chocolate Factory _together_.

Love, Life, and Magic.

The Factory always brought joy into the lives of all those that lived in or near it and all who ate the wonderful candy that it produced.

It was also no longer a blemish on the town's landscape. Willy paid to have it painted all sorts of bright and beautiful colors.

The most spectacular factory on Earth.

In

Every

Single

Way.

---

END


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